


Conversations

by batyalewbel



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: All pairings besides Newmann are a bit background, Angst, M/M, Maybe a fix it I don't know yet, Pacific Rim Uprising, Post Pacific Rim Uprising, This author is very ace and writes romance in an ace way, but tagged for clarity's sake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-04-07 07:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 56,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14075943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batyalewbel/pseuds/batyalewbel
Summary: Newton was watching him as he glanced back and saw that someone had been thoughtful enough to provide him a chair.He pulled it up and sat down, wincing and stretching his bad leg out in front of him.“Hello Hermann,” Newton said and there was a hint of a sneer in his voice.“Hello Newton,” Hermann replied, “How are you doing today?”





	1. One Week After

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, it's been awhile but coming back to these two is like coming back to a nice warm blanket and a cup of cocoa. Mind you I wish the canon had been nicer to them but ah well here we are.

_I remember thinking that it was all a dream. All of it. It was just another bad dream. I kept thinking that the world was ending. I thought about the sparrows falling from the sky._

_― Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe_

 

_“I--we--he isn’t strong enough.”_

That’s what Newton had said as his hands wrapped familiar fingers around Hermann Gottlieb’s throat.

_He isn’t strong enough._

Hermann was never the expert on kaiju morphology. His expertise was in mathematics, physics. He could plot trajectories and probabilities and map out the dimensions of the entire Pacific Rim.

He began to dabble in chemistry after Newton had gone, but it was entirely theoretical.

That was the space where Hermann was the most comfortable. In the theoretical abstract, not the hard concrete of tattooed hands compressing his airway.

Those hands dealt in the physical, the literal. In gore and grime and earthy realness.

That was always Newton’s realm.

Hermann’s vision was starting to go gray at the edges as he stared up at the face of his friend and saw something shift behind the eyes.

 _"I'm sorry, Hermann,”_ Newton had said, voice cracking at the seams, _“They're in my head"_

Then from somewhere behind them a woman yelled _“Let him go,”_ and Newton did.

That was the last Hermann saw of him then. A flash of something like relief and then Hermann fell, his head cracking on hard ground and then he saw nothing at all.

\---

The fact is, the PPDC think it could be beneficial (That is the word they used… _beneficial)_ to leave Newton in his current state. This is how it was explained to him by the survivors of the PPDC upper echelon.

They of course mean he could provide tactical advantages or possible opportunities for intelligence gathering. They hoped to question Newton, to use him to gain any sort of advantage over the Precursors

and Hermann understands why.

Objectively, he understands their reasoning.

But he stands there, alone and staring up at these men, knowing he's the last one now. Mako Mori is dead, Stacker Pentecost is dead and his son has no reason to care about some silly scientists as he tries to rally the survivors of Mt. Fuji into some kind of military force. Tendo retired years ago and would be little help to him now.

It's just Hermann and he has very little leverage when it comes to these people.

He would not be able to change their minds on Newton.

Hermann has always been good at following orders, he has done nothing but for the last twenty years and so he stands straight as an arrow, white knuckling his cane and asks for the only thing he can.

“Might I be granted visitation privileges?”

“Why?” asks the American delegate.

Hermann can't really answer that question in a way that's seemly or dignified. Instead he says, “You may record these visits in case he perhaps reveals something of value to you, but I would like to be allowed to see him.”

“That doesn’t answer the question Dr. Gottlieb,” says the German delegate.

His father used to be on this panel in that man’s very spot, but he passed away four years ago. Newton had sent him a ridiculous card and flowers of all things.

He looks up at the panel.

 _“Please,_ let me see him.”

\---

The room is small and dimly lit and Hermann swallows as he enters it. Ranger Nathan Lambert is the one at the door and he seems to look askance as Hermann limps inside and the door shuts with a heavy metal clang behind him.

Newton watches him as he glances back and sees that someone has been thoughtful enough to provide him a chair.

He pulls it up and sits down, wincing and stretching his bad leg out in front of him.

“Hello Hermann,” Newton says and there is a hint of a sneer in his voice.

“Hello Newton,” Hermann replies, “How are you doing today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so #1 I said in the tags and I'll say it here. I write very ace romance. Idk if the characters are ace or not but I sure am don't read for smut or makeout sessions there won't be any. If that seems to be your jam then  
> #2 I do not know if this is going to be a full on fix it. I don't know what this is going to be yet...but I want to deal with what PRU gave us somehow so here we are.  
> #3 while I'm shamelessly shilling [this is my other Pacific Rim Newmann fic.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294243/chapters/2684485) It was fairly long and took about 10 chapters to find its plot, if it reminds you of Designations Congruent With Things at the start I Know, Trust Me


	2. One Week After Part II

_I saw a city crumbling into the mouth of_  
_a many-headed beast. The beast was not_  
_the terror, she was my cousin; the terror_  
_was the sudden knowing that all_  
_empires are made of paper and_  
_damned religions._

_uhmareka, collapse: two, Sasha Banks_

 

“Hello Hermann,” Newton says and there's a hint of a sneer in his voice.

“Hello Newton,” Hermann replies primly, “How are you doing today?”

Newton laughs and it sounds almost like the laugh he's heard so often, rough and ungainly and far too loud. Except now it's hard edged too.

“I’m doing great Herms, I love being locked up in a cell,” Newton says with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands move expansively within the restraints keeping him in place.

Hermann looks at the familiar and unfamiliar face of his closest friend and can’t help but observe analytically that it isn’t the voice which has changed. There's something else that's wrong and Hermann can’t believe he missed this for so long.

“I’m guessing you aren’t here to bust me out of here buddy so I’m wondering why you’re even here?” Newton asks and there's that smile but it's manic and malformed at the edges.

Hermann folds his hands in his lap and tries to banish the memory of Newton’s hands around his throat.

“I was hoping to speak to Newton,” he says as calmly as he can manage, swallowing hard and feeling the bruises around his throat. Newton’s eyes flick down to those bruises and back up to him, a smirk slowly forming.

“I hate to break it to you Hermann, but this is me now,” he twists his hands in the restraints to hold them palm up and shrugs his shoulders. Hermann blinks, he isn’t surprised by this response. He left surprise on the hard tiled floors of Shao Labs.  

“When you attacked me, you said _he_ isn’t strong enough,” Hermann says leaning forward in his seat to meet Newton’s gaze. The former biologist only shrugs and smirks a second time.

“Pronouns are confusing dude, sorry.”

Hermann stares at him for a long and silent instant that might have been a minute or an hour.

“I don’t think that’s true,” he says before pushing himself to his feet and taking a step towards Newton, still trapped in place.

The old Newton would have gone mad just from sitting still for so long.

This Newton simply watches him take a step closer and then another.

Something in Hermann cracked that day in the Shao Labs. Something had fractured.

Newton staring at him like a stranger is enough to widen those cracks a little further.

Finally, he stops directly in front of Newton.

“I should have seen that you were suffering all this time,” he says and reaches down to gently clasp at Newton’s unyielding hand with the ever familiar ink patterns stitched into his skin.

“And for that I am sorry,” he says, giving Newton’s hand a squeeze.

This close to the man, he could swear he sees a flicker of something in Newton’s eyes but it's gone in an instant and replaced with fury. Newton practically tries to lunge at him, his teeth bared like a feral animal and before Hermann can even register what's happening, the door to the cell is thrown open and he's dragged out while technicians run in to subdue the threat that was Newton Geiszler. That is his last glimpse of Newton: his mouth wide open, like he's screaming, muscles pulled tight with inhuman effort. Then the door slams shut and Hermann is left staring at cold steel. Only then does he realize that he's gasping for breath and so is Nathan Lambert, whose hand is fisted in the back of Hermann’s coat.

“I hope you got something out of that Dr. Gottlieb,” the ranger says, letting go of Hermann’s jacket and Hermann can only straighten his jacket with one hand and readjust his grip on his cane with the other. He stands stiffly, staring down the ranger who has no business being the on guard duty unless there are more unusual circumstances at work than he previously realized.

All he says aloud is, “I’ll see you next week Ranger Lambert.”

\---

Hermann manages to maintain his calm all the way back to his lab. He usually has one or two assistants around, the blessings that came with funding unlike the last time he and Newton had saved the world on luck and a shoestring budget. Today, the lab is mercifully empty and so Hermann can drop his cane and collapse into a chair, digging trembling hands through his hair.

 _“Fuck,”_ he murmurs to himself and the swearing was definitely something he picked up after drifting with Newton. Before it would have been unseemly, even in private. Now on very fraught occasions there is language to describe it and it's fowl (the untidiness of his workspace is another trait he picked up from Newton and it's horrific and frustrates him to no end)

“Dr. Gottlieb, are you alright?” a familiar voice asks from the doorway and in that moment Hermann would like to let loose some more colorful epithets but he is no longer alone.

Liwen Shao stands in the doorway to the lab looking smooth and sleek as ever except for the few healing cuts on her face.

Hermann sits up straight in his seat, although he can't quite banish the quaking that's set into his hands.

“I’m fine Ms. Shao, thank you,” he says and it almost sounds true. It is odd that in many ways Liwen Shao is the one who helped him save the world a second time. The first time he had done it with a friend and the second time with a stranger.

A stranger who saved his life.

She smiles with the smallest quirk of her lips and steps into the lab. She's wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans in place of those crisp suits she has generally worn and her hair is neatly pulled back at the nape of her neck. As she sits down in the chair next to Hermann’s looking utterly unruffled and calm she appears almost amused as she says, “I think none of us will be fine for quite some time Dr. Gottlieb, it is alright to admit that.”

At that Hermann’s eyebrows lift in obvious surprise. Liwen Shao looks like the epitome of a person who is adjusting to a new and difficult situation with ease. Although on closer inspection Hermann thinks that maybe he can see where that smile of hers strains at the edges.

“Thank you Ms. Shao I will keep that in mind. How are you doing?” He is making conversation because it seems like the thing to do. He has never been good at this, even when he isn't recovering from losing his best friends mind to a monster.

Liwen Shao minutely raises her brows before replying, “Considering I accidentally let my life's work get co-opted by Precursors who, according to the latest death count, murdered around 2,500 people I'm doing well thank you.”

Hermann blinks.

“What happened to admitting when you’re not fine?” he asks with a furrowing of his brows. Her eyes flick from him to his paper riddled desk. She pinches a post it off his desk which is a piece of almost illegible formula he had scribbled down in a hurry weeks ago.

“I’m fine with caveats,” she says, glancing at the paper and then back at him.

Before he can even think of a response she puts the paper down and stands up from her seat, turning towards the door.

“I hear that you went to see Dr. Geiszler,” she says with her back to him.

“I don’t believe that should be public knowledge,” Hermann says with a frown.

“Well it is I’m afraid. You aren’t going to make many friends by associating with him.”

Hermann frowns up at the woman. He wants to say that he doesn't care. That he didn’t have many friends to start with. Instead he asks, “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

She turns by degrees to look back at him.

“I’m uncertain if the man who worked for me was ever Newton Geiszler. I’m uncertain how much of the blame falls on him and not the Precursors controlling him,” she says and her gaze is hardened by a life he can’t begin to imagine.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he says and she smiles that small smile again.

“And yet that is my answer,” and with that she leaves Hermann to his lab and his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my last Newmann thing Hermann spent a lot of time with Mako Mori and I am still a little bit furious about what Uprising did with her but it did give us Liwen Shao and I find her to be Really Interesting


	3. Two Weeks After

_“What is it that you contain? The dead. Time. Light patterns of millennia opening in your gut. Every minute, in each of you, a few million potassium atoms succumb to radioactive decay. The energy that powers these tiny atomic events has been locked inside potassium atoms ever since a star-sized bomb exploded nothing into being. Potassium, like uranium and radium, is a long-lived radioactive nuclear waste of the supernova bang that accounts for you.  
_ _Your first parent was a star.”_

_Jeanette Winterson, Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Heracles_

Liwen Shao was not wrong in her assessment. Over the next week he got strange looks all around the base. From random people in the hallway, to his own assistants.

Hermann has never been a terribly sociable person but the cold shoulder he seems to be getting from every human he comes across is tiring. People in the halls give him a wide berth and there are whispers of the _‘kaiju lover’_ and similar epithets. One of two people have even confronted him about it although it’s never come to blows.

(He suspects nobody would look kindly on Hermann beating a ranger senseless with his cane)

So five days after his visit with Newt when Jake Pentecost sits down at his table in the mess hall Hermann sighs. The entire length of table is empty on all sides, and even a few seats at his back seem to have deliberately emptied to avoid him. And one of the heroes of the Mt. Fuji incident surely had many places to sit which makes this a deliberate move.

Hermann braces himself for whatever is about to come as Jake settles into his seat and looks up at Hermann with something like mild interest.

He knew Stacker Pentecost quite well seeing as how they worked together for nearly ten years. In that time, Hermann can recall the young boy sometimes chasing after his father. Sometimes he could be seen playing with the young Mako Mori. That’s the most Hermann knows of the man who is now seated across from him.

“I can leave if you’d rather sit by yourself,” is what Jake says to him now and the complete lack of hostility takes Hermann slightly by surprise.

“Oh well I…” he stammers and Jake just looks at him keenly. It reminds Hermann a lot of his father.

“I was just thinking,” Jake says as if Hermann hadn’t said anything at all, “Since you’ve been sitting by yourself for the last week you might want some company.”

 _Five days,_ Hermann wants to say. He has several other things he is tempted to say as Jake digs into the contents of his tray with some gusto.

Instead he says in clipped tones, “Aren’t you going to ask me about Dr. Geiszler?”

Jake glances up at him halfway through a bite of mashed potatoes.

“No I wasn’t planning on it,” he says lightly.

And Hermann stares at the young man as he keeps on eating. After several more bites of mashed potato he looks up at Hermann again and Hermann is surprised at the seriousness beneath his gaze, “I know you two were friends. I remember running into your lab a few times when I was a kid.”

“I remember,” Hermann says faintly and Jake is still staring him down, all humor and lightness gone from his expression.

“I don’t really need more of an explanation than that,” he finally says and when Hermann says nothing back, he just nods as if that settled it.

Seconds later, a certain amount of ruckus somewhere behind Hermann seems to draw Jake’s attention to the mess hall entrance. He grins, raising a hand in the air to call out, _“Hey Smallie,”_ and a young woman comes running over to their table, “Hey Jake,” she says enthusiastically, plunking down in the seat beside him with a smile as wide as the Pacific Ocean. Hermann recognizes her as one of the new recruits who helped in the battle of Mt. Fuji.He’s fairly sure her name is Amara and not ‘Smallie.’

At the same time she seems to only just notice Hermann sitting at the table with them.

“Oh you’re the one who’s friends with the scientist that turned evil right?” she asks him with a level of interest that’s so genuine Hermann feels a little off balance for what must be the hundredth time in the span of five minutes.

Without looking up from his tray, Jake kicks her under the table. Hermann can tell by the way she sits up straighter to glare at the ranger, even though he didn’t see the kick.

 _“What?”_ she asks sounding affronted “It’s _true.”_

And as Jake rolled his eyes, Hermann feels himself smiling for what might be the first time since Shao Labs.

\---

It is two more days before he is allowed to see Newton again. The PPDC allotted him one hour on a weekly basis.

On Wednesday morning he wakes with a start, knowing he will be seeing Newton today. He isn’t sure if he’s looking forward to it, but he watches the clock all morning until it hits noon and then he leaves the lab in a hurry.

Ranger Lambert is the one outside Newton’s door again. He still frowns as he opens the door to let Hermann inside.

Hermann’s chair is right where he left it and he idly wonders if the chair isn’t just for him. Perhaps it is for others who come to visit Newton in a less friendly manner.

He suddenly wants to avoid sitting in that chair at all costs.

“Hello Hermann,” Newton says in that same not quite Newton way.

“Hello Newton,” Hermann replies, choosing to lean against one of the cell walls and observe Newton from a distance. With one hand, he rests the bulk of his weight on his cane, the other he buries in his pocket so Newton hopefully won’t see it trembling.

Newton’s skin is starting to pale, a byproduct of remaining locked in an underground bunker, but Hermann thinks he can also see new lines of strain around the other man’s eyes and mouth.

There is a long quiet where they simply study eachother in absolute silence. Hermann thinks Newton might be waiting for him to speak first and so he does.

“What was your plan for Newton if you had succeeded?”

He has hundreds of questions but this one is fairly high on his list in trying to understand and map out how much of the man before him is still his friend Newton Geiszler.

“When will you understand that I _am_ Newton,” the other man responds with an unnatural stillness and quiet.

“When you sound like him,” Hermann replies through his teeth. His leg is bothering him more than usual today and it isn’t helping his mood or demeanor as he grips his cane and repeats the question, “What was your plan?”

His friend stares at him blankly before shrugging.

“This body most likely would not have survived once the planet was terraformed,” he says as blandly as one describes the weather, “He would have died I suppose.”

Hermann has to swallow hard in the face of that.

“Now let me ask you a question,” Newton says, leaning forward to peer at him with interest, “Why do you care so much about this body if it tried to kill you?”

Hermann stares at that sneer that doesn’t quite fit on Newton’s face. He knows the answers but they aren’t ones he is willing to have recorded by the PPDC or heard by Precursors.

_Because I think it was you who tried to kill me and not him._

_Because I have to believe my friend is still in there._

_Because I have very few people left on this Earth that matter to me._

_Because Newton Geiszler might be the person that matters the most._

And with that any words in Hermann’s mouth dry up. He cannot remain inside this room a moment longer. He pounds on the door with as much composer as he can manage until Ranger Lambert opens the door and Hermann stumbles out in the hallway, letting the door slam shut behind him.

He stands, bracing himself with both hands on his cane, just trying to breathe properly.

“Doctor Gottlieb are you alright?” That would be Ranger Lambert asking and Hermann shakes his head and stands up straight and full to look the other man in the eye.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” he says before turning on his heel and practically fleeing down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally plan to get into Nathan Lambert as well but I wanted to bring in Jake and Amara first. (Also I read somewhere that PRU novelization specifically says, Hermann's office is a mess now because he drifted with Newton so YUP I'M KEEPING THAT ONE)
> 
> Also you may notice, fic is in present tense now. I kept accidentally switching into present tense, the last chapter accidentally ended in present tense so fuck it we live there now.


	4. Three Weeks After

_Doubt comes in_  
_With tricky fingers_  
_Doubt comes in_  
_With fickle tongues_  
_Doubt comes in and my heart falters_  
_And forgets the songs it sung_  
_Where are you?_  
_Where are you now?_

_Doubt Comes in, Hadestown the Musical_

 

When Hermann comes into Newton’s cell and sits in the chair provided, he tries not to think too much about what methods PPDC interrogators might be using while sitting in it.

In fact Hermann tries not to think at all, which for him is no easy feat.

Newton watches him as he settles into his seat, resting his cane against the arm of the chair and pulling out the book he brought with him.

“Really? No questions for me today?” Newton asks with that tone of derision that’s almost familiar. Hermann flicks the book open to where he last left off and doesn’t look up.

“I have no questions for _Newton_ today, that is correct,” he says, pocketing his bookmark and getting as comfortable as he can in a metal seat while his leg is still sore. As Hong Kong heads into the winter months, the cold is always hard on his leg. It’s hurting no more than usual today, but it still irritates him.

“You’re really just going to sit here and read?” Newton asks with some incredulity.

The fact is, Hermann has many more questions to ask, but last week was more difficult than he would like to admit.

Hermann still isn’t sure how much of Newton is left in the being sitting before him…

But the idea of Newton going so long without even seeing a friendly face pains Hermann.

The least he can do is keep the man company. He can’t begin to conceptualize what Newton might actually be experiencing in his current state. What he imagines seems hellish.

So he brought a book, _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. _

He likes to think that Newton would appreciate the irony of his reading choice and he hasn’t read it since he was a child. Now seemed like an appropriate time.

And Hermann hasn’t responded to Newton’s last question, he simply turns the page in his book and tries to actually absorb the words his eyes were running over. Under the harsh light and harsher gaze of his former colleague that is becoming a rather difficult task.

After an immeasurable passage of time Newton asks him, “What’re you reading?” and Hermann glances up attempting to school his face to its most neutral state and briefly holds the book up for Newton to see.

“Huh, good choice,” is all he says in response.

“Thank you Newton,” Hermann replies without thinking about it before glancing up and catching the other man’s gaze for a long and silent instant.

For a moment he actually sounded like Newton.

His eyes seem to flicker in that way which makes Hermann wonder…

“Well don’t stop on my account,” Newton says, finally breaking the unspoken tension and sounding like that now familiar, unfamiliar self.

Hermann goes back to his book without another word.

\---

As soon as the door shuts behind him, Ranger Lambert faces him looking as bemused as ever. Hermann stands there and waits, he can read the question that is surely coming on the other man’s features so he just knuckles his cane and _waits_.

“Why are you doing this Dr. Gottlieb?” he finally asks and Hermann sighs.

“I could ask you the same question Ranger Lambert,” he replies.

The man takes a step back, quirking one eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

He sounds almost offended or possibly affronted.

Hermann suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, “I mean you’re a jaeger pilot, unless the PPDC is more understaffed than I thought I see no reason why you should be the one who is on guard duty.”

At that, the other man looks almost abashed, looking away and down towards the ground.

It appears like he might be struggling to find the words. The silence is a long one.

“This happened on _our_ watch,” he finally says quietly, his arms still firmly clasped behind his back, “I don’t want something else like this to happen because we weren’t paying attention.”

And Hermann stares at the ranger, somewhere between nonplussed and something like understanding.

“You do realize that actual guards would presumably notice if anything awry was happening don’t you?” he says as gently as he can manage which is not very gently at all.

At that Nathan Lambert almost smiles, “That’s what Jake keeps telling me when I take shifts down here.”

“And he’s correct,” Hermann replies and that makes the ranger’s smile widen a fractional amount.

“What about you doc, why are you coming down here all the time?” he asks.

“First off, once a week is hardly _‘all the time,’_ and second…” he trails off beneath the other man’s gaze.

“Newton Geiszler has been my colleague for nearly twenty years,” it sounds so cold but it’s the closest he’s come to actually saying it out loud. His drift with Newton is still only marginally on record. It’s not something he talks about.

“You’re saying he’s your friend,” Lambert says with some understanding glinting in his eyes.

 _I’m saying I will not abandon him,_ he thinks.

“Yes,” he says aloud and the word sounds harsh in his ears but the other man only nods.

“Well I won’t keep you anymore Dr. Gottlieb, I’m sure you’re plenty busy,” he says and it’s almost friendly now. Hermann doesn’t know what to do with that so he merely inclines his head and says, “Good day Ranger Lambert,” and makes for a quick exit from this hallway and this conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote at the top is from the musical Hadestown which if you haven't listened and you like your greek mythology mixed with depression era New Orleans Jazz it's rad as hell. (Also I recommend the live musical recording vs the concept album. It has Patrick Page whose baritone will knock you flat)  
> Also people are starting to review this and hello all I really appreciate the feedback. I'm still not Quite sure where I'm going with this...although I'm getting some ideas.
> 
> Sorry this is a short chapter, I kinda knew I was going to at some point have Hermann 'Good Will Hunting' Newt. But I'm glad we finally got to have a scene with Nate...if you check the tags you may note I have some ideas about his character XD


	5. Four Weeks After

_“Many things that are true feel like a cheat. Kingdoms get the princes they deserve, farmers’ daughters die for no reason, and sometimes witches merit saving. Quite often, actually. You’d be surprised.”_

_Patrick Ness, A Monster Calls_

“You’re really going to keep this up aren’t you?”

That is question addressed to Hermann by Newton the moment he enters Newton’s cell.

“Yes,” Hermann replies, managing to sound unperturbed as he settles into his usual seat with a grimace. Newton scowls at him and there’s that flicker in his eyes again. Under Hermann’s gaze a small trail of blood begins to drip from Newton’s right nostril.

Even more improbably, Newton just sniffs and mutters, “You’re both intolerable,” and rolls his eyes. Hermann, meanwhile jumps to his feet, uncertain of whether he should give the man a handkerchief or even take a step closer.

For his part, Newton seems hardly bothered by the bleeding, he simply leans his head back and sighs, “Alright Dr. Gottlieb, ask me a question then.”

Hermann stares at him, hands itching to _do something_. To help or comfort.

Newton hated getting nosebleeds and they both had many in the days following the drift. Newton was repulsed by the sight of his own blood and found the experience to be unpleasant and anxiety inducing.

(Newton hadn’t been so squeamish before and Hermann was unsure why he was after... Except for the fact that Hermann himself couldn’t stand the sight of his own blood and might have passed the phobia on to Newton in the drift.)

Instead he slowly sits back in his seat, white knuckling his cane to stop himself from doing something very stupid that might be recorded by PPDC cameras.

And Newton still watches him, “Well? Ask me something, you’ve been coming here wanting all these answers, now’s your time,” he says almost magnanimously except for that edge to his smile and the blood still trickling down his face.

Hermann grips his cane tighter and says, “At some point after the closing of the Breach you decided to drift with that piece of kaiju brain a second time.”

Newton blinks, again with that flicker in his eyes.

“That wasn’t really a question dude,” he says and Hermann sighs.

“My question is _why?”_ he asks and he has to look away gritting his teeth and willing his eyes to remain dry.

“Because I wanted to _know,”_ Newton says, sounding entirely like himself in that singular crack of his voice.

“Know what?” Hermann demands staring up at the face of his partner for nearly 20 years with a fear and fury that can hardly be matched and Newton shrugs, the pain on his face slipping away into it’s previous calm like a smooth slide. But a tear runs down his cheek and his nose still bleeds and he still sounds like Newton as he says, _“More.”_

\---

A long time ago, Newton had told him that fortune favored the brave and Hermann had told him his plan would never work and he would just end up killing himself.

Like curiosity killed the cat.

The metaphor turned literal and given questionable human form in the shape of Newton Geiszler.

The worst part is that Hermann believes it.

He entertained the possibility that this creature might have the ability to truly speak in Newton’s voice. Their ability to mimic Newton for an unimaginable length of time would support the notion. Except for the fact that Newton has _always_ been inquisitive to the point of suicidal.

And their shared drift had been Newton’s second connection with them. Even Hermann felt a vague inclination to go back into that drift, but he dismissed that along with the nightmares as passing side effects.

Perhaps for him, they were.

But Newton drifted twice.

Once bearing the full neural load of a connection with a kaiju hivemind.

Perhaps for him, those passing inclinations were less passing and more pressing.

He wonders how long Newton resisted before giving in to the most reckless and self destructive of temptations.

He was given one answer but it only opens up more questions like a knife opens up a wound.

He considers all of this as he makes his way past Ranger Lambert and heads for his office.

It’s a long walk, and plenty of time to consider everything.

How much control does Newton have over his own body? How much might his own personality be blending with that of a portion of a kaiju hivemind? What was the significance of the bloody nose if it made the Kaiju half of Newton relent and answer Hermann’s questions?

Was that Newton putting up a fight for control?

He wonders about all this and wonders what he will do for Passover this year. Newton used to come to his seders when they worked together but in the last few years Passover has become a quieter affair and only now does Hermann realize why and the thought of that pains him too, along with all the rest.

He likes none of the conclusions he’s drawing from any of this.

Then he comes to his office and finds one of the young recruits sitting in his chair, spinning it in lazy circles. As she spins past the doorway, he recognizes Cadet Amara Namani, the young ranger who sat with him and Jake Pentecost in the mess hall two weeks ago.

Since then he has seen Jake around the base several times. The young man always stops to ask how Hermann is doing and remains polite and solicitous, except when he’s staring down any passerby that stops and stares at the verbal exchange.

He knows that the young Pentecost is probably trying to make a public statement about Hermann to the base by choosing to be publicly seen with him.

And Hermann plays along although it doesn’t seem to be doing much good. He still gets shoved in halls where Pentecost is not present.

Just yesterday, a passing member of J-Tech actually went so far as to knock him to the ground. Not a difficult feat, although Hermann managed to not crack his head against the concrete floor. That and keeping a good grip on his cane meant he could hold it up, ready to ward off another blow or deal one of his own when somebody beyond Hermann’s view cleared their throat in a purposeful manner. The young man stopped and looked back, immediately dropping his fists and walking away with his head down. When Hermann looked up it was Cadet Amara Namani staring at him. He opened his mouth to say _something_ when she took off running after the fleeing mechanic with a shout of _“Hey,”_  leaving Hermann on the floor perplexed and a little alarmed.

He was given no further explanation then and now Amara is sitting at his desk, spinning his chair in such juvenile fashion, it contrasts quite spectacularly with the military uniform she is currently wearing.

“Cadet Namani, is there something I can help you with?” he asks as he steps across the threshold into his otherwise empty office. He’s found that lately his few staff members seem to be consistently elsewhere. He has yet to mention it to the new head of the Hong Kong Shatterdome.

“I’m avoiding Jake, he’s being _the worst,”_ she rolls her eyes as if to emphasize the level to which Jake has been such a trial. It does little to actual illustrate or explain anything but she continues, “And I know that nobody ever comes here so I figured it would make a great hiding place.”

Then she smiles at Hermann looking utterly pleased with herself and Hermann is a little unsure of how to respond.

“Thank you for your...interference the other day,” he says leaning a little heavier on his cane, feeling a few painful bruises he garnered in that unfortunate encounter. She merely blinks at him and says, “Sean’s an asshole. But I’m still not allowed to punch him... _Apparently.”_

And now Hermann feels like he might be getting a sense for the situation. Both today’s and yesterday’s. It's then that he notices her knuckles are scraped and slightly bruised.

“So I’m guessing Sean was the J-Tech crewmember we encountered yesterday?” he asks delicately as he pulls up a chair from another empty desk and Amara merely goggles at him

“You’re telling me you didn’t even know _the name_ of the guy who knocked you down?” she asks, in a full display of juvenile incredulity.

“I’m afraid those sorts of encounters are rather common for me and the base contains a rather large population, so no,” he replies as he lowers himself slowly into his procured seat.

At his response, she frowns.

“That sucks,” a simple but accurate pronouncement that would describe his current situation. He thinks Newton would like the girl if he could meet her and remain wholly himself.

“Indeed,” he replies dryly, unable to stop a small smile from forming.

With that, the girl seems temporarily at a lost for words, spinning his chair in a full rotation before saying in complete non-sequitur, “Jake says I shouldn’t ask you about Dr. Geiszler because it’s none of my business.”

Hermann stares at the girl, mouth hanging open fractionally as she turns the chair radially back and forth in an uneven, fidgety rhythm.

Finally he replies, “I think that would depend on the nature of your questions.”

At that she nods, her brows knitting as she seems to consider that.

“Do you think what happened with Mt. Fuji and Mako Mori was Dr. Geiszler’s fault?” she asks with no aggression or enmity whatsoever, just a genuine curiosity to hear what he thinks and it surprises him even though she’s displayed this exact sort of inquisitiveness before. Perhaps he stares at her for too long because she shakes her head and starts talking very quickly, “It’s just that everyone on base keeps talking shit because you’ve been visiting Geiszler and they think you’re a Kaiju sympathizer or something. But Jake says you’ve been working with him for years and your friends and you probably know the guy better than anyone and I was just _wondering--”_

Hermann holds up a hand to stem the verbal tide and she stops talking, but continues shifting the chair back and forth like a nervous tic.

“I don’t think Newton was in control when it came to the...more egregious actions he committed,” Hermann says slowly.

“But he did at some point, under his own willpower, _choose_ to drift again with a kaiju hivemind and that was what led to everything that followed so…” he trails off, swallowing hard, “That part I think is his fault, yes.”

And Amara just stares at him, brows locked over the bridge of her nose and for a moment she hardly looks like a teenager at all, but someone as aged by conflict and loss as he is.

“Why would he do that in the first place though?” she asks and Hermann shakes his head, willing himself to not _weep in front of a child._

“Curiosity,” he says and the word is like acid in his mouth, “An unyielding intellectual curiosity towards the creatures he spent years studying and obsessing over.”

He remembers all the times he called Newton a Kaiju groupie and it feels ominously prophetic now.

“I’m sorry dude, that really sucks,” she says in a profound display of adolescent empathy he was not at all expecting.

“It does,” he agrees, for lack of anything more insightful to say.

“Ranger Namani,” a voice calls out from the doorway startling them both. Officer Jules Reyes stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips, “Pentecost and Lambert have been looking for you everywhere.”

Amara shrinks a little in her seat and Reyes turns to Hermann and says, “I’m sorry if she was bothering you.”

“No, not at all, Cadet Namani was very pleasant company,” Hermann says quickly which gains him a raised eyebrow from Reyes and a small smile from Amara.

“Well, be that as it may, she has to go meet with her commanding officers,” Reyes says, eying them both with something like consideration. Amara sighs theatrically, getting up from his chair and heading for the door in the most dramatic fashion possible, slouching her shoulders and rolling her eyes so hard, he wonders if she might strain something.

“See you around Hermann,” she says, dropping the irritation for a moment to wave before stepping out the door. Hermann waves back without even thinking about it and then feels profoundly silly for doing it.

He thinks he can see Reyes smiling a little as she steers the girl down the hall and as Hermann listens to their retreating footsteps he hears the girl ask, “Have you asked Marshall Shao on a date yet?” followed by a small _thwack_ and a quiet but amused, “Keep walking soldier.”

And then Hermann is left alone in his office to contemplate all that just transpired with something like mild consternation.

On the one hand he just learned some horrifying things about his closest friend. The ramifications of which, upset him deeply. On the other hand, he might have just made friends with a prepubescent and that’s an entirely unexpected turn of events. But by far, not the worst thing to happen to him this week, so there’s that.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first off, yes I am implying that Liwen Shao is the new head of the Hong Kong Shatterdome(Because why wouldn't she be? And also that her and Jules Reyes like eachother because that girl deserves to have more personality and life than being an object for two disaster Bis. We will come back to Jules Reyes in this fic to be sure)  
> Also I really like Amara and Hermann needs more friends even if they are small friends and he is a little bit weirded out by that.  
> And lastly, in the novelization or maybe just according to Travis Beacham, Hermann is Jewish and I just celebrated Passover this weekend and you bet your ass that Hermann is a beautiful awkward Jew boy in my brain. I bet he has ugly Chanukah sweaters and makes excellent matzoh ball soup.  
> Oh and the bloody nose being a signal that Newts fighting back came from [Tumblr user Firehouselight and it's here](http://firehouselight.tumblr.com/post/172252685601/today-on-fix-it-theater-a-comic-of-a-scene-i) it was a very good notion A+++


	6. Interlude I

_I said to the sun, tell me about the Big Bang_  
_The sun said, 'It hurts to become.’_  
_I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue, and whisper 'Bless your heart’ every chance I get_  
_So my family tree can be sure I have not left_  
_You do not have to leave to arrive, I am learning this slowly_  
_So sometimes, I look in the mirror and my eyes look like the holes in the shoes of the shoe-shine man_  
_Some days, my hands are busy on the wrong things_  
_Some days, I call my arms wings_  
_Well my head is in the clouds, it will take me a few more years to learn that flying is not pushing away the ground, but safety isn’t always safe_  
_You can find one in every gun. I am aiming to do better_

_I Sing the Body Electric, Especially When My Power’s Out, Andrea Gibson_

 

_Liwen_

Liwen Shao was not anybody’s first choice for the new head of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, but she had the technical knowledge and a willingness to learn. She was ready to hire generals and learn military tactics and she already knew plenty about the politics.

The fact was that beyond the technical knowledge of jaegers, she was also very good at PR, at spinning events in her favor.

The world did not often favor women like her, she was well aware of that and so she learned and she learned _early._

The only way to survive was to fight tooth and nail and it was still possible to lose everything at a moments notice.

Her father died when she was ten and her mother had passed before she was two. She was too young then to run a company but her father had willed it to her. In the end she still had to fight for it.

And she had to fight to make it worth something.

And Newton Geiszler ripped it all out from under her. Or the Precursors did.

For the first week or so, lesser news outlets painted her as an accomplice while the more prestigious newspapers painted her as an unwitting stooge.

The truth was probably somewhere in the middle.

She was surprised when the PPDC agreed to her proposal to being the new Marshall of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, but she didn’t question it. Instead she immediately went to work restructuring and rebuilding. Hiring new personnel to replace their losses and giving interview after interview where she remained utterly calm and professional in the face of every degrading question they could throw at her.

Did she have anything to do with Newton Geiszler’s take over of her company? How could she not have known? How could she be sure that a similar fate would not befall the Hong Kong Shatterdome with her in charge?

She answered every question with her emotions buried deep. She would unleash them later in her quarters, or on a punching bag that she would hit until her knuckles bled.

For the interviewers she merely smiled and spoke smoothly of her plans until the press finally forgot about her in favor of focusing their attentions on Geiszler.

She was still asked about her choice to keep Gottlieb on her staff which she defended easily. He was instrumental in defeating the Mega-Kaiju. Many could attest to that.

She may have been personally swayed by her talk with him in the days after the event, when her own bruises from piloting Scrapper were still healing and he still had bruises around his neck. She saw his sadness then and recognized it. It was the kind of grief that might be weaponized later, like her own was and still is. She recognized his value to the PPDC and also his value as the one person that might be able to unlock Newton Geiszler.

The PPDC let her keep him and agreed to keep Geiszler held in her Shatterdome. Aside from that Geiszler was beyond her jurisdiction. She knew he was visited by PPDC interrogators at least once a week and there was nothing she could do about it.

All she can do is rebuild the Jaegers, _her_ jaegers now. And rebuild this Shatterdome.

She walks it’s halls knowing this is all her responsibility now and she intends to fight for this. She will not fail again.

(If she finds herself at all distracted by that one J-Tech Officer Reyes, that is an entirely separate issue)

 

_Amara_

Amara Namani was technically only one half of the team that stopped a cataclysmic event from occurring at Mt. Fuji. One third if they counted Liwen Shao. One fourth if they included Nate. And if they include Ilya and Suresh and Viktoriya and Jinhai the fraction gets smaller and smaller.

This fact doesn’t seem to matter to most people.

Amara constantly reminds people of it but for some reason they don’t seem to care. Especially in the city, when she’s allowed to go off base.

Jake gets most of the press and noise, Amara’s grateful for that. What she has to deal with overwhelms her enough. Photoshoots and interviews where she’s pushed into makeup and fancy dresses and asked to look happy while people with plastic smiles ask her about dead kaiju and dead friends. Interviewers and complete strangers around the base and in the city all seem to want a piece of her.

Then there's Mako Mori who she barely knew, but even after that short drift with Jake, it feels like she knew her for years.

She did know Ilya and Suresh, if only for a short time. She knew they were kind and good and didn’t deserve to die the way they did. She feels their absence all the more as new recruits take up the spaces they once occupied.

She mourns when she can. In quiet corners where nobody can hear her.

The worst part was that after everything, Amara thought she might not need to train anymore. She thought she might have learned enough to have gotten better. Or at least _good._

She’s plenty good at fighting, although Nate says her technique could use some polish.

It’s the drift that she still struggles with. Anxiety and grief are always present and distractions that make it all too easy to ‘chase the rabbit’ as they say. She’s still the one to break the drift, more often than not.

_Don’t think about the dead, stop seeing their faces._

_Stop mourning a dead sibling that isn’t yours._

_Stop missing people._

At some point after the death of her family, Amara was sent to see a therapist. They recommended that when she got so angry she could hardly speak, she should take deep breaths and count. Amara hasn’t needed it in years but lately she finds herself back at it again.

_Focus. One, two, three, four, five. Breath. One, two, three, four, five._

Maybe that’s why she went to go see Dr. Gottlieb.

After sitting in the mess hall with him and Jake, she could recognize the loss on him. Another soul lost at sea. She could relate.

After that lunch Jake pulled her aside, “Listen Smallie, you can’t ask him about Doctor Geiszler. Everyone on base has been giving him shit about it and they were friends. Just let it lie.”

She spends less time with Jake these days, mostly because he’s busy with Nate. (They think they’re hiding it well but Amara is 99% certain that they’re dating. Or at least doing some other stuff.

She doesn’t blame him for being a little more absent. Between Nate and getting pushed into a small press tour after Mt. Fuji, he’s been _busy._ And there’s still Jinhai and Viktoriya, although for two very different reasons she finds it difficult to talk to them sometimes.

Jinhai is just too _nice._ She has a tendency to lash out when she’s frustrated and these days she’s _always_ frustrated and she hates taking it out on him.

And Viktoriya. With a face like cut glass and eyes that pierced her soul the first time she fought with her. To say she’s nursing a crush might be putting it mildly.

She does talk to both of them fairly frequently. When all the cadets share one bunk it’s hard not to. But there’s barriers, even between her drift partners.

So through circumstance or unfortunate quirks in her personality, Amara has felt pretty isolated since Mt. Fuji.

And maybe _that_ was why she ended up in Hermann’s office after punching out Sean for being a dick to him the day before. The punching was mostly a necessity. She had some pent up rage and she could tell Sean was being his usual asshole self, so she stepped in and used it as an excuse to burn off some steam. She needed to hit something before she started screaming and Sean was an easy and deserving target. Not that Jake or Nate saw it that way (Maybe she could have mentioned the guy pushed Dr. Gottlieb first but for some reason she didn’t. She just avoided their punishment for as long as possible and then took it without a word)

When she decided to go to Hermann’s office the day after Sean it was an entirely separate incident. She had wanted to ask him about Newton and hide from her commanding officers for a little while longer.

She was curious about the mathematician and the man who once was his friend. Because she imagined that losing one’s friend to an alien consciousness might be a new and strange sort of grief. Because she picked away at her own grief like a scab and she was curious if he might be doing the same.

She had fidgeted with his seat and counted as Hermann delineated fault and blame and where it lay.

It was still hard to shake the image of the man who stood atop a building and laughed as her friends died.

_Breath. One, two, three, four, five._

She thinks she will visit him again sometime, even if she sees his friends face in her nightmares. It felt good to talk without having to hold anything back.

Now she walks through the base considering fault and blame, the sadness in the mathematician’s shoulders, and Viktoriya’s sharp blue eyes.

She trains every day until she’s sore and can hardly think. She practices and studies and learns everything she can.

Because Jake says the Kaiju will come for them again and every time they’ve come, she’s lost.

_Focus. One, two, three, four, five._

She won’t lose again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being fond of a close 3rd person POV means either commit to multiple POVs from the start or occasionally hop into other perspectives when needed. Hermann spends a lot of time in his office and there's a lot he doesn't see. I think there will be more of these on occasion. Or maybe I'll just do full chapters from other POVs here and there idk.
> 
> Also I think I might be allergic to hetero couples in this fandom hah(That's not true I kinda shipped Mako and Raleigh) but yeah Amara and Liwen and their girl crushes. Whats a girl to do amirite? Also I find the more I write Amara the more thoughts I have about her. Like I totally get Jake but it's a little hard to get in his head like I can with the girls.


	7. Nine Weeks After

_Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house._  
_But I put it out of my mind_  
_Long enough to call it courage_  
_To live without a lifeline._  
_I bend the definition_  
_Of faith to exonerate my blind eye._  
_‘Til the sirens sound, I’m safe._

_–Earth, Sleeping at Last_

 

There is often a temptation to go back. To retrace one’s steps.

But how far back would Hermann have to go to find light?

Back to the victory at The Battle of the Breach? When he and Newton had matching red in their scleras and Newton wrapped an arm around his shoulders in some approximation of a hug that left him both warm and confused?

Were the seeds for their destruction already sown then?

Would he have to go back to the years of toiling with less and and less resources in various Shatterdomes, arguing with his colleague and panicking about their increasingly inevitable demise?

Back to the few years he spent trying to train to be a jaeger pilot before it was made clear that he would not be declared fit? That moment when his urge to _do_ something outweighed his usual reserve and instead he was forced to channel that into helping them build their machines bigger and better. Those were the years when Newton Geiszler was merely a name in an email and an idea of a person that he treasured. Before he met the real man and found he did not like him one bit.

Or would he have to go back farther? Back before the monsters destroyed cities and countless lives.

In his nightmares he can remember the savage pleasure of ripping into buildings and bodies like its his own.

Hermann could go back farther, but his childhood was not free of trouble or trauma. Adjusting to a life where one leg would never quite the work the way it was meant to and adjusting to the pain that would plague him for the rest of his life.

His father was not an easy man to get along with, part of the reason it took so long for Hermann to get help was because his father seemed to think he was being childish over nothing. His father was wrong in that as he was wrong in so many other things.

The fact is, there was never a time in Hermann’s life that was untouched by pain and sorrow. Even if he had the chance to go back to a time when his problems were smaller, he can remember his misery so acutely he wouldn’t dare.

The fact is, sometimes Hermann wishes he could go back. Wishes he could stop the problems before they started.

The fact is, he can’t and all he can do now is live in the aftermath.

\---

A few weeks pass in relative stasis. Hermann visits Newt and makes conversation more than he asks real questions. Mostly he just reads to him from whatever book he’s currently working through. He has lately developed a taste for fiction, and whether that is a means of escapism or not, he can’t quite decide.

But he’s read to Newton from The Portrait of Dorian Grey, Frankenstein, and Doctor Faustus.

If he’s using fiction as a means of escape, than he seems to have poor taste. It always feels like he’s reading _about_ Newton.

Even when he reads The Lord of The Rings he sees terrible parallels to his own circumstances.

(In obsession, the dangers of it, and the effect it has on the people closest to it).

When he isn’t visiting Newton he spends most of his time in his office. Occasionally Amara stops by, or Jake Pentecost. Liwen Shao has dropped by once or twice, mainly she asks for updates on his research, but she always stays a little longer and asks after his health and general wellbeing.

And life goes on, such as it is.

Hermann works and studies and researches. Those Jaegers nearly opened up a rift, he needs to find a way to keep that tear in the continuum closed for good.

He tries not to think too much about the things he has no power to change. That would be of no use to anyone. He has to buckle down and solve this.

The Breach, the Kaiju, and Newton.

It’s been nine weeks since Mt. Fuji and he goes to visit Newton. He missed last week due to a deadline for drafting a proposal.

Today, Nate lets him in without a word and Hermann can’t help but linger in the doorway.

The time locked away looks like it’s beginning to take a real toll on Newton.

He’s beginning to look thin, his skin looking almost sallow from the lack of real air and sunlight.

“Hello Newton,” he says as he finally steps inside.

“Hi Hermann,” Newton replies, his expression almost at ease and Hermann finds himself watching the man’s eyes trying to gauge who he’s talking too right now. As the door shuts behind him, he takes a seat, letting his cane rest against his knees.

“Have you been eating?” he asks, trying to sound neutral and there’s that flicker in the other man’s eyes again.

“You didn’t bring a book today,” Newton says, in casual observation that sounds slightly frayed at the edges as Hermann readjusts his cane, moving it to lean against the wall.

Those fraying edges catch Hermann’s attention in an instant, he directs a sharp glance at Newton to see those flickering eyes and his nose is bleeding again.

“Sorry, I just um… You have baller taste in fiction my man,” Newton says, and he sounds utterly like himself for the first time in weeks, or possibly years.

Herman stands up.

“Dude, sit down _please,”_ he breaks off to wipe his bloody nose on his shoulder in a move that is both awkward and deeply unsanitary.

“Are you _alright,_ Newton?” Hermann asks, still standing and reaching back for his cane as a necessary stabilizer.

“For being locked in an underground dungeon for nine weeks, I’m pretty okay,” Newton says with a shrug and an aimless motion of his hands, still cuffed in the restraints.

Hermann shifts his weight, eying the man up and down. This could be a trick, but it doesn’t feel like one. He bites back an almost reflexive retort, _it’s a cell Newton, not a dungeon._

“Dude, you’re kinda freaking me out right now, could you _just--?”_ he breaks off, but one hand waves obviously at the chair and Hermann wants to scream a little bit. He wants to rage at the man. He wants ask him _what were you thinking when you drifted with a kaiju brain so many times you lost your sense of self?_

Instead he sits down, white knuckles his cane, and asks, “Is it really you?”

He can barely stand to look at the man, human disaster that he is for the moment, and his nose is still bleeding a little bit.

“Yeah dude, it’s me for now,” Newton replies and his voice cracks open on the words. Hermann almost wants to get up and hold his hand but he just grips the cane tighter and asks, “For how long?”

“Um...well...we kind of made a deal?” Newton says sounding uncertain and deeply exhausted.

“What kind of a deal?” Hermann asks.

“One where they let me talk to you...unless maybe they don’t like what we’re-- _I’m_ saying…” he trails off, unsure and anxious. His hands are shaking.

“Basically-we--they… I get to talk…when you visit,” he says haltingly, clearly struggling to find the right words and pronouns. And Hermann wants to ask a million more questions about this _deal,_ he wants to ask if it has something to do with why Newton looks like he hasn’t eaten in two weeks and how long this deal is going to last.

Instead he asks, “Are they treating you well?” he looks pointedly at the camera installed by the door to indicate who he’s talking about. Newton’s just shakes his head, “Mostly? Dude are you really asking me that right now?”

“What should I be asking?” Hermann asks, his own temper fraying a little alongside Newton’s composure in a way that feels like old times.

“Hermann, you should be...I don’t…” he trails off, eyes downcast, “Hermann you can’t be asking me how I’m doing, I haven’t said sorry yet.”

The words freeze Hermann in place as he tries not to see Newton standing over him as his vision starts to gray or the thing Newton called _Alice,_ that got wheeled through his lab before they incinerated it.

In the following silence, he has to force his lips to thaw so he can ask, “What do you mean?”

And Newton’s head whips up in a flash, his eyes are wide and his mouth is a harsh line, “I mean I _hurt you Hermann,”_ he says, and the words lash out with an almost physical pain.

“You think I wasn’t in there for that? I could feel my hands on your throat and I _couldn’t make them stop._ I couldn’t even try and I _hurt you._ You had bruises on your neck for _weeks and I’m sorry.”_

He’s practically yelling by the end, sweat standing out on his forehead. And Hermann can only sit there, mouth agape, because he _does not know what to say._

“I wasn’t strong enough,” Newton says, sounding like an open wound.

And he said those very words to Hermann back in Shao Labs, _I’m not strong enough,_ he whispered as his expression fractured into a thousand disparate pieces and Hermann tried not to lose consciousness against the hand clamping down on his throat.

Hermann knew even then that whatever this was, it wasn’t really Newton.

And yet he still has nightmares that wear Newton’s face and voice like a mask.

He considers all of this as he tries to summon up the words that can adequately express or explain…

Then he sees Newton twitch. Like a full body stutter.

His head jerks upright and this time he’s not looking at Hermann as he says, “No, you _promised,_ my time is _not up yet.”_

“Newton,” Hermann says cautiously and Newton’s gaze flickers in his direction and then quickly away again as he says, “Hermann I just-- _You said I could--_ ”

 _“Newton,”_ Hermann repeats his name like an exclamation or a plea.

“They’re--It’s them Hermann I-- _Stop it!”_ he breaks off with a look of utter agony and in an instant Hermann is by his side.

He grips the man’s arm and says, “Newton, _you have to fight it,”_ like it’s an order and not a desperate wish, “You _have to.”_

 _“I can’t,”_ Newton hisses through gritted teeth and with one last glance back at the camera Hermann decides he _does not care_ what some PPDC personnel might think watching this. He reaches up to frame Newton’s face with his hands, fingers pressing back into his hair.

 _“You have to,”_ he says, trying to hold Newton here by sheer force of will, _“Please Newton.”_  

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Newton says in a broken whisper.

 _"Do not apologize,"_ Hermann tells him as sternly as he can and Newton just shakes his head, a tear sliding down his cheek.

And then between his fingertips, Hermann watches as his friend slides away. The feeling in his eyes dimming to almost nothing, gritted teeth becoming a smirk. The hands fisted against the chair’s armrests, relax and flatten.

And They return.

“Sorry Hermann,” they say sounding not sorry at all and Hermann hangs on to his friend a moment longer, willing Newton to _feel it._ Willing _them_ to understand that he will not be intimidated by them.

When he let’s go, he takes a step back and glares.

“You just got us a little too riled,” Newton continues, seemingly unbothered by Hermann’s attitude or the fact that his own nose is bleeding again.

Hermann steps back, staring down the creatures inside his friend.

“Newton, if you’re listening I understand,” he says calmly in spite of the iron grip he has on his cane. Then he shifts his weight and addresses Them.

“And when I come back next week, it had better be Newton I talk to or I swear to _god,_ I will--”

“--You’ll what?” They interrupt him with a smirk.

Hermann knocks on the door before turning back to them, feeling the ice in his veins and in his eyes.

“Pray you don’t find out.”

Then Nathan Lambert opens the door and Hermann walks out, straight backed and chin up.

He stands there and waits until the door closes behind him to slump back against the wall. Under Lambert’s uncertain gaze, he presses one hand to his brow, pushing against the headache that is already forming.

“ _Gutte gotte,”_ he mutters and Lambert remains politely silent until Hermann drops his hand to see the other man still staring at him.

“That sounded intense,” the ranger says in mild observation that contrasts with the brows that are rapidly reaching his hairline.

And Hermann can think of a hundred replies to his comment. _Yes, that was intense,_ or _I may lose my sanity trying to save him_ but all he says is, “Good day Nathan,” and heads down the hall trying to decide if what happened today was progress or not.

\---

He eats dinner late, when the mess hall is mostly empty. Normally he eats quickly and then retreats to his office or his quarters, but today he finds himself staring blankly down at the contents of his tray. In his mind he turns over the same questions that have been plagueing him since he left Newton’s cell earlier that day.

_How did Newton manage to bargain with the beings possessing his own body? Why did they stop him when he got “too riled?”_

_Did Newton hear him when he said he understood?_

There was something truly horrific in _seeing_ his friend lose control right in front of him. The loss of autonomy was so clear, Hermann wonders for the thousandth time, _how did he not see it sooner?_

He’s so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he does not notice Liwen Shao until she takes a seat at his table, directly across from him with a mug of coffee in hand.

“Good evening, Dr. Gottlieb,” she says and Hermann startles, immediately moving to stand and salute but she waves a hand at him, “Let’s not bother with that, I hear you had a trying day.”

Hermann openly gapes at her.

“How could you _possibly_ know about that already?” he asks, a little appalled at the thought of what version of events might be currently circulating through the Shatterdome.

“I make it my business to know things,” she says mildly as she takes a sip of her coffee, “Also Nate told me.”

Hermann aims a scowl at a nearby wall rather than glaring directly at his commanding officer. He does not like the idea of people discussing him behind his back (Even if they have good intentions which he suspects Nathan Lambert does).

All he says aloud is, “I still don’t have a clear timeline for you as to when he began tampering with your program.”

“I assumed,” she replies taking another sip of coffee, “I was more interested in getting a clearer sense of what happened when you spoke with Dr. Geiszler today.”

And Hermann is tired, he can’t help the hint of acid that seeps into his tone when he asks, “Isn’t there a PPDC recording you could check out for that?”

She doesn’t even blink, the only reaction he gets is the slightest hint of a raised eyebrow. “You are correct, but it’s easy to make assumptions based on something like that. I thought it best to hear from you.”

Her gaze is unwavering until she looks down to turn the handle of her cup a few degrees to the right in a sharp, precise motion.

“Also I do not have the jurisdiction to view such footage and if you believe you are making progress, that will give me further means to argue for Dr. Geiszler’s continued stay in our Shatterdome.”

Hermann stares at the Marshall for a long moment. He does not ask if she’s implying is that the PPDC would like to move Newton elsewhere. He does not ask what the PPDC is doing with him in the hours Hermann is not with him. (He does not try to parse what Newton might have meant in that moment when he said ‘mostly’ like it was a question not an answer).

He does not ask because he’s not sure he wants to know the answers and he’s not sure Marshall Shao would be able to give him answers. He suspects that she shouldn’t even be implying as much as she is.

(And what she's implying is that the PPDC has plans for Newton. Plans that she might be holding off with the promise of Hermann himself somehow unlocking Newton to the point where the PPDC might get real intelligence without the use of interrogators)

As Hermann considers all this, Liwen waits. She lightly stirs a spoon in her coffee and watches him consider all the facts, both stated and implied.

“I believe I actually spoke with Newton today,” he says quietly and her eyes widen, just a fraction and she leans forward in her seat.

“Really?” she asks, her tone still deceptively mild, “May I inquire about the content of that conversation?”

Hermann can’t help but grimace down at his tray, “It was largely comprised of him shouting apologies for actions he was not responsible for.”

The Marshall blinks and then takes another sip of coffee before replying, “I imagine that was difficult.”

Hermann can feel his own frown deepen, “It was.”

She nods, clearly waiting to see if he has more to say. Hermann has to swallow hard before continuing, “He did say something about how he had made some kind of _agreement_ with them where they would subside and allow him to talk to me when I see him.”

Marshall Shao’s gaze seems to sharpen, “Really?”

Hermann nods, “Only when Newton got upset, they took over again. They said he was too distressed or something of that nature. The word they used was ‘riled.’”

Shao nods her head slowly, “I’m guessing you have a theory.”

Hermann sighs, “Maybe, but not one I would like you reporting to the PPDC.”

“You worry what they would do with that information?” she asks and there is no judgement in her eyes, Hermann nods down at his tray .

“Then it’s probably best to keep that theory to yourself, you’ve given me plenty to work with,” she takes what seems like a final sip of her coffee before setting it down on the table decisively.

“Now that is done, how are you doing Dr. Gottlieb?” she asks and there’s a hint of something gentle around her eyes.

“I’m fine with caveats,” Hermann says quietly and the corners of her mouth lift in the smallest of smiles.

They talk for a while longer and it’s nice.

And if Liwen’s eyes seem to wander, tracking Officer Reyes as she passes through the mess hall for some coffee with a hint of color in her cheeks, Hermann doesn’t say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liwen Shao: The master of micro expressions, except when staring at her crush. Also Hermann would probably tell her to go up to Jules and say something but he's a bit of an interpersonal disaster right now so...yeah.
> 
> And that bit with Newt earlier....that was a lot. I feel real bad for my science kids right now but I finally have a pretty clear idea of where this story is heading so that's good.


	8. Interlude II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I just spent 15 minutes typing out trigger warnings and a summary of half this chapterand then AO3 logged me out when I TRIED TO POST IT so if issues of bodily autonomy, addiction, or intentional starvation are triggering just skip to Jake's section and HANG ON WHILE I TRIED TO POST THIS FUCKING CHAPTER, THEN I'LL ADD SOME END NOTES AHJASASDFGHSDFGHAFGK  
> Edit: I'm not even changing this, I'm so mad AO3 did me dirty like that. But there's an end note now with summary now, read safe friends.

_And you, my father, there on the sad height,_  
_Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray._  
_Do not go gentle into that good night._  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_\--Dylan Thomas_

  


_Newton_

It feels like being submerged.

It feels like drowning.

Or maybe this is what the vacuum of space would feel like.

He can see through his own eyes, but he feels so far away. Like being detached from his own body. Like an astronaut cut from their tether, floating off into the void.

When he tries, he can feel things, taste them or smell them. But it all comes secondhand, everything is muffled, dulled even.

When he tries _very_ hard he can almost feel like his body is his own. Like maybe he can reach back into his own bones and take control again.

He stopped eating a few weeks ago. For two whole weeks he somehow managed to stop his body from feeding itself.

It sucked and distantly, he could feel the way his stomach would ache and his throat felt dry. And they would come round, hissing and animal like. When they use his body they speak in words, when they communicate with him it’s more visceral.

It feels like being eaten alive.

 _Stop this,_ they screamed, _it is futile, you are_ **_ours_ ** _now._

 _I want to talk to Hermann,_ he told them and if this version of himself had teeth, they were gritted and if this version of him had hands, they were balled into fists.

_Just let me talk to him._

And they fought for what must have been days. Every day someone would come in with a tray of food and one of his hands was released from its cuff while two soldiers stood guard with guns pointed and ready.

The first time Newton tried, he thought the effort might tear him in half. Just forcing that hand to remain still for the twenty minutes he was allotted for a meal...it took nearly everything he had.

When his hand was back in its cuff, they _screamed_ at him and he was so tired he just let himself sink…

At least for a time. Until the next day and the next meal.

Because Newt learned something after Shao Labs. He learned that he could not just remain a helpless spectator.

In that moment he _tried so hard_ to no avail. In the weeks that followed, Newton would replay that moment over and over in his mind.

The feel of Hermann’s skin bruising beneath his fingertips.

The look of fear in his eyes as he stared up at Newton.

The fact is, Newton should have tried sooner. He should have fought harder.

If it had been Hermann in his place, _he_ would have.

Newton did try in the beginning. In those early days when it felt like he was barely treading water, he tried _so hard._ After months or maybe a year, he just gave up. He accepted his fate.

There were even times when he would just let himself fade out. Periods of time when he was entirely gone and he would come back unsure if he had missed hours or days.

Shao industries was more than just a catastrophe.

It was a wake up call.

And so for two weeks, every day he wrested control of that one hand for _twenty minutes._ Just enough to where he could stop them from moving. Trying to move himself was a whole other issue and he could barely manage to lift a finger (literally).

Finally, when the hunger was starting to take a toll on both of them Newton pulled out the last card he had.

_If I die, you lose your only human host. Your only way to spy on the humans in order to win your war._

His body was all the leverage he had and apparently, it was enough.

They agreed to his deal, or at least they mostly did.

\---

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to Newton that Hermann would find a way to visit him. The man was nothing if not stubborn and had a streak of loyalty that ran deeper than the Pacific Ocean.

Hermann probably should not be visiting him.

Not after what he did to Hermann and to everyone else.

(If Newton spends too much time thinking about those who have died as a consequence of his own actions, his entire being may implode)

(He thinks about Mako often)

But improbable, impossible, Hermann Gottlieb has always managed to defy his every expectation. So really, Newt shouldn’t be surprised. That guy has spent his life tilting at windmills. Whether it was training to pilot a jaeger when they would never accept him. (Newt both disagreed with their assessment and was deeply grateful they never put Hermann in a jaeger). Or whether it was spending years mapping out the eventual end of days and helping to build bigger, better robots to try and hold back the inevitable, oncoming tide. Or whether it was years spent working with a colleague who mostly belittled him and somehow still deciding that person is worthwhile.

Only after the drift did they begin to understand each other and even then, they still argued constantly. The only difference was that after the drift, arguments ended with quiet apologies, or usually stopped before words sharpened into verbal knives.

They still disagreed on almost everything, but in the moments when they didn’t disagree…

Those moments were the closest Newton Geiszler has ever felt to anyone.

Sometimes they would just sit together and work and it was as close to content as Newt has ever been.

Those were the moments where he wondered things, like what would happen if he just held Hermann’s hand? What would happen if…?

Maybe they should have talked more.

Maybe Newton should have said something then, before it was too late.

Because after the Drift he had a little piece of Hermann in his head, but he also had a larger piece that was tinted blue and it _wanted him to drift again._

The need was so strong, it was like being pulled towards them constantly. It was like withdrawal.

They wanted him so bad and a big part of him knew it would be bad for him to Drift again with a Kaiju brain.

And they still had that brain he had drifted with in the first place. It was still in their lab, tempting him on some stupid primal level he could not seem to shake.

He held out for two years.

He should have said something.

The first drift left him unconscious on the floor of the lab, except this time Hermann didn’t find him.

Newton often wonders what would have happened if he had.

Some _very_ stupid part of him had reasoned that it was simply to scratch that itch. To quiet that little voice in his head.

Of course the itch only got worse after that.

The voice grew louder.

After a few more drifts, Newton said he had disposed of the Kaiju brain when he had really moved it to his apartment.

It seemed reasonable to him then.

It was just scratching an itch, it was fine. Newton was just maybe a little bit addicted to drifting with a piece of Kaiju brain but it was _fine._

The change was subtle at first. Sometimes his hand would twitch. Sometimes he would wake up in the morning and his entire arm would be full of pins and needles.

The first time his body moved of its own volition, his hand simply grabbed a pencil off his desk. He had stared down at his own hand with a growing sense that something was _very wrong_ and Newton had no idea how to stop it.

He tried to stop drifting, but instead of a little voice it felt like a hundred voices _screaming._ It felt like his head was going to split in two if he tried to go a day without it.

Soon he started having ideas that didn’t make sense, thoughts that were not his own and by the time he had quit the PPDC to work at Shao industries, he had become a spectator in his own body.

Sometimes he drifted closer to the surface when they were trying harder to mimic him. He would be pulled up and they would pull the words out of him to speak in his voice.

By 2028 he was completely gone.

He watched as they distanced him from the few friends he had and _especially_ from Hermann.

And Newton missed him like one might miss a lung, but he was also grateful to think the they might be satisfied with just him.

He was grateful that they might leave Hermann alone.

Then they set about reopening the Breach and Newton realized that the best case scenario for the world would probably involve him getting shot or something.

Newton had to be stopped. He hopes the cell is enough.

And he should have tried harder then, except maybe he did not yet realize the scope of the damage he could cause with his knowledge base and a piece of kaiju hivemind in his brain.

Now he is just a prisoner in his own body and Hermann Gottlieb’s latest lost cause so it seems.

When they last spoke, Newt had clawed his way up, trying desperately to hang on as Hermann told him to _fight._ But Newton was weak and he knew he was only fighting the inevitable as he was ripped violently away from himself by something out of an eldritch nightmare and left in darkness.

He wishes Hermann would move on and just leave him to the void. He wishes he hadn’t seen the bruises he made around his friend’s neck.

He wishes for a lot of things.

Of course Hermann’s visits might be the only thing keeping him sane at this point. They had the full run of Hong Kong before, a breach to open and cities to destroy. Now they have interrogators and hours spent alone, staring at walls.

Plenty of time for them to turn their gaze inwards on him.

It’s hell tinted blue and the sounds of thousands of screaming monsters tearing him to shreds.

 

_Jake_

To say life has been hard in the days following Mt. Fuji might be an understatement. The public perception of him rising to hero status in the space of a day was hard to take when he spent _years_ dodging his responsibilities.

He had tried after Stacker died to take up the mantle that was expected of him.

It was too much then, and Nate was _definitely_ too much.

It was hard trying to live up to a man he had barely known. Jake was still in school and living in London when Stacker died miles and miles away. Mako called him and tearfully told him, _“He said we could always find him in the drift.”_

What kind of final goodbye was that anyway? Still, his father had always wanted him to enlist in the academy and pilot a jaeger. If he was bitter that his father’s last words were a clear command to go and be a jaeger pilot, he didn’t talk about it.

He didn’t talk about a lot of things and then he just got angrier.

He hated the military, he hated the order and the stiffness and he hated having other people in his head.

The first time he kissed Nate was wonderful and terrifying and far too much. A week later he had dropped out of the program and fled halfway across the world to America. He couldn’t go home to London and he couldn’t stay in Hong Kong. The only option was to get as far away from it all as he could.

In the end, all that running got him nowhere. He was scooped out of his hideaway life by Amara and the jaeger she managed to scrape together out of spare parts and sheer grit.

And thanks to her he was placed right back in the life he spent so long running from.

What’s a man to do when running gets you nowhere?

At first he was angry and then he watched his sister die and there was no room for anything else.

He may not have been close with his father, but he had always loved his sister.

He remembers all the times when he was little and they were all still living in the Hong Kong Shatterdome together. He remembers when he would hear Mako having a nightmare and he would go and sit by her bed. He remembers the times he used to get so frustrated at his dad, he would find some corner of the Shatterdome to hide in and cry. Mako was always the one who would come and find him.

He had never embraced the lifestyle of his father and sister, but Mako accepted him anyway, even when his father didn’t.

Mako, who was so strong and fierce and did not deserve to die. His earliest memory of her...he must have been maybe two or three years old, sitting in his father’s lap watching a twelve or thirteen year old Mako training with a staff weapon. She was so small, but her grip on her weapon never faltered, even when her hair was sweat soaked and sticking to her forehead. Amara reminds him of Mako a little bit when she was that age. Maybe that’s why he took to her so quickly.

Maybe that’s why he’s trying to look out for her the way Mako did for him.

He’s not sure he’s doing a good job at any of it, but he’s on his own now and he has to stand on his own two feet and _get shit done._

It’s what Mako would have done.

And somehow, when it was all over, Nate was still there. Like he had been patiently waiting for Jake to get his head out of his ass this whole time. Maybe it was drifting with him again. He never asked about Mako, probably because he already knew. And Amara did too. When they drifted he knows they must have seen the gaping hole Mako left behind.

It’s not something that he wanted to talk about. He just knows that sometimes Nate holds him a little closer when it gets to be too much again. And he knows Amara tries a little harder to make him smile.

It’s enough for him. In the post apocalyptic world they live in, its enough to have people in his life who remain there in spite of whatever stupid shit Jake might have done before all this.

Now it’s just about keeping them close and keeping them safe.

It’s about stopping the kaiju from destroying any more lives, even the kaiju living inside Dr. Newton Geiszler. He feels for Dr. Gottlieb the most, possibly because if it comes down to it, his best friend would be the first to die if it meant averting the next disaster. Jake might even be the one pulling the trigger if it meant keeping them all safe. He hopes it won’t come to that, but if it does, Jake’s learned he has to make the hard choices. It’s what Mako always did, now it’s his turn.

 

_Mako_

Mako did not deserve to die the way she did. Not that anyone is asking for her opinion, she is dead after all.

But Mako always assumed that she would either survive into old age or die in a blaze of glory in a jaeger. If she had her pick, she would have preferred to have gone that way.

The only reason she retired from being a jaeger pilot was because she believed they had solved the problem all those years ago. She thought there were no more monsters to fight.

And Raleigh had begged her to retire with him. He said he was done fighting his ghosts and he asked her to come with him, back home to America.

She had retired from the fight, but she had not gone with him.

Although she had made it a point to come and see him as often as she could. She had no ring on her finger, but Raleigh was her other half in all the ways that mattered and she did miss him when she was away.

The problem was that Mako had lived her whole life at war. She did not know how to be at peace.

A quiet life in the country was never on the cards for her.

But she treasured the time she spent with Raleigh.

And she was so sorry when he was given the news of her death.

She watched him crumple to the ground as her brother softly explained it all to him.

And she was sorry to watch her brother and her best friend mourn her.

There was nothing she could do to ease that pain. Only time would dull it and maybe eventually she would move on.

But for now she stayed and watched.

She watched Raleigh, working in construction again, taking anger and pain out on hard pieces of wood and concrete like he used to in the days before they met when he helped build a pointless wall.

And she watched Jake.

He did not have the time to mourn her until much later. First he had to stop a second apocalypse.

She was sad watching it play out as it did.

She had always liked Dr. Geiszler and Dr. Gottlieb. She had always known the pair were inextricably linked and watching the Precursors tear one of them apart from the inside, all while lashing out with destructive force...it was hard.

If there was any comfort, it was in the smaller moments of aftermath.

Jake and Nate spending every moment they aren’t training the recruits with each other. She likes the way Jake smiles when he leans into Nate’s space, or the way Nate blushes when they hold hands.

Nobody should be alone in the aftermath and she is grateful that Jake has someone to help him through the darker times.

She can’t help him now. She can only watch and hope it turns out better for him than it did for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first off, I'm sorry this one is such a bummer, it sucks that by respecting canon(which I generally prefer except with Rogue One) it means I have to accept that Mako died when she DESERVED BETTER. It turns out dead people have feelings too and so I WROTE THEM DOWN FOR YOU. Also oh hey Jake and Nate are not a will they won't they situation. They already did. And I am sorry if the whole Newt might die thing is upsetting, Jake and Newt are being realists but also I WOULD TAG CHARACTER DEATH IF I WAS GONNA WRITE THAT PLEASE DON'T STRESS.
> 
> (Also Do Not Go Gentle is one of my all time fav poems and very applicable to this chapter)
> 
> Summary of Newt's section:  
> Basically Newt managed to wrest control enough to stop himself from eating for two weeks. What this amounts to is they would uncuff one hand from the restraints and he managed to hold that hand completely still and it took a lot of effort and exhausted him. He did this until the Precursors agreed to let him talk to Hermann, because the alternative was starving himself to death and the Precursors losing their only human host/way of spying on the humans. He considered how he ended up in this situation in the first place where basically a little kaiju voice in his head was constantly tempting him to drift and he held out for two years before he gave in knowing it was probably a really stupid idea. From there it turned into a sort of addiction and through multiple drifts he started to lose control of his own body and mind and they began to take him over. By the time he realized what was happening he was too far gone and he regrets that he never said anything or tried to fight back before Shao Labs. He regrets all the damaged they caused while using him including when they nearly strangled Hermann. He thinks that he needs to be stopped and he hopes the cell is enough to hold him, he thinks Hermann probably shouldn't be wasting his life visiting Newton but those visits are keeping him sane.  
> It's just a long rambly internal monologue about his shit sorry I hope this makes sense I spent a lot of time writing this summary the firs time and then AO3 ate it so *throws up hands* I did my best, be well y'all.


	9. Ten Weeks Later

_Tremble for yourself, my man,_  
_You know that you have seen this all before_  
_Tremble, little lion man,_  
_You’ll never settle any of your scores_  
_Your grace is wasted in your face,_  
_Your boldness stands alone among the wreck_  
_Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck_

_– Little Lion Man, Mumford & Sons _

The days following his last meeting with Newton were… Interesting…

It seems the hall outside Newton’s cell may not be closed to all PPDC personnel and so someone aside from Nathan Lambert may have heard his visit devolve into shouting and tears.

Hermann is not quite sure what to do with this information or the outcomes that follow because of it.

The main result seemed to be several people feeling the need to ‘check up on him.’

\---

The morning after that meeting with Newton and then Marshall Shao, Jake sat down with across from him in the mess hall.

“Hey Dr. Gottlieb, how are you doing?” he asked casually as he set down his tray. Before Hermann could reply, Officer Reyes set down her tray beside Jake’s and said, “In case you’re wondering, the whole base knows and Jake’s worried about you.”

Hermann’s brows climbed, and only got higher when Nathan Lambert set down his tray on Jake’s other side looking apologetic as Jake turned to Reyes saying under his breath, _“I wasn’t going to say anything about it Jules.”_

Reyes just smirked and took a bite of oatmeal, “No you were just going to pussyfoot around it and then hope you accomplished something.”

Nathan seemed to be smothering a giggle as she continued, “I prefer to get straight to the point,” then she turned her attention to Hermann, “Hey Dr. Gottlieb, you okay?”

Hermann stared at her, his eyebrows reaching his hairline and his mouth hanging slightly open. He shut his mouth before replying, “I am well, thank you Officer Reyes.”

“Oh please call me Jules,” she said before turning back to Jake, “See? Mission accomplished,” while Jake had his eyes closed and one hand at his temple like he was developing a headache.

She looked back at Hermann, “You see the thing is, underneath that cool haircut and all the swagger, Jake’s a bit of a mother hen,” she clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder as she spoke and Jake put both hands over his face while Nathan seemed to be working very hard to suppress audible amusement.

“I am _not_ a mother hen,” Jake said, muffled beneath his hands.

“You absolutely are,” Reyes said, still thumping one hand on his shoulder, “There’s no way you would let Namani get away with the shit she does otherwise.”

And Jake dropped his hands to look at her, deeply affronted, “I do _not_ let Amara get away with anything.”

“You kinda do,” Nathan said quietly before burying his face in his mug of coffee as Jake whirled to look at him like he had been betrayed.

“Jake, just accept it,” Reyes said in a way that was both gentle and a little bit smug, “You’re a mother hen with subpar taste in men.”

At that Nathan finally dropped his mug with a loud and offended, _“Hey,”_ while Jake simultaneously said, with an accusatory pointed finger, “But _you_ like Nate.”

“Should I go?” Hermann asked quietly and Jules was the one to shake her head and say, “Absolutely not, this requires witnesses,” before turning back to both Jake and Nate to say, “I happen to have very poor taste in men.”

She paused at that point to take a deep pull of coffee before adding, “I have much better taste in women,” and Hermann had to hide a smile behind his hand as Nate’s eyes widened and Jake threw his head back to laugh loud and hard.

“Oh my god Nate you never stood _a chance.”_

This was not how Hermann expected his lunch to go. Still, he drank his tea quietly and watched with some amusement as the three of them went back and forth, the conversational ebb and flow almost too quick for him to follow. He simply sat and let himself be pulled in and out with the tide.

\---

And so the line of people inquiring after his well being continued.

It was both considerate and deeply off putting.

He actually got a call from Tendo and he was loath to consider how Tendo Choi could have heard about this _when he is no longer employed by the PPDC._

It was a short call filled with several well meaning, but awkward silences.

Then the day after breakfast with Nathan, Jake, and Jules, he came to his office and found Amara sitting on his desk. She looked up as he entered the room and he had to bite back a sigh as he asked, “Are you also checking on the current status of my mental health?”

She shrugged, “Kinda, is that a problem?”

And then Hermann did sigh, moving his chair a little to the side so she still had room to sit comfortably on his desk as he sat down and tried to organize some of his papers.

“I am not accustomed to being asked to talk about my _feelings_ as often as I have of late,” he said as he shuffled a few papers that really ought to have been stapled.

Amara looked at him sidelong, kicking her feet aimlessly in the air, “That doesn’t sound healthy dude.”

Hermann sighed a second time wanting to protest, _you are a literal child,_ of course he knew she really wasn’t. The same way so many of them had to grow up a little too fast in the wake of tragedies. All he said aloud was, “Perhaps.”

For some reason that made Amara snort and shake her head before turning to him and asking, “So you’re okay? It sounds like it was rough the other day.”

And Hermann pressed two fingers to his temple, shutting his eyes, “Does the whole base _really_ know all about what Newton and I discussed?”

Amara shrugged, “I don’t know mostly everybody's been saying you guys were shouting at each other, somebody said it sounded like there was crying, but I thought that might have been made up,” she looked at him again like she was waiting for a confirmation or denial of what Newton would have termed “water works.” Hermann groaned moving to press one hand over his forehead and she muttered a quiet, _“Yikes.”_

“If you must sit in my office and distract me from work could we discuss something else?” he asked wearily. She kicked her feet in the air a few more times saying, “Sometimes when I’m stressed I like to count.”

He looked up at her, one eyebrow lifting slightly, “Really?”

She nodded, apparently immune to his skepticism, “Back when I got put in therapy, because I guess after seeing my family get eaten the social worker people thought I needed it?” she stated this matter of factly and Hermann, who had never asked for the details of how a child had come to live alone and build their own jaeger from scrap, had to fight the urge to visibly blanch at her statement.

“Anyways, one of the therapists suggested it as like a de-stress thing?” she continued, apparently unaware of the effect her words had and Hermann couldn’t help but frown a little out of curiosity.

“I too, find numbers generally calming,” he said uncertainly and she glanced at his whiteboards full of equations, the papers on his desk riddled with disorganized calculations and graphs illegibly scribbled in every direction and then back at him with visible amusement, “I bet you do dude, but it’s not _just_ counting…” she rolled her eyes like this was obvious and Hermann leaned back in his chair, gesturing for her to elaborate.

She huffed out a heavy sigh, “It’s like a breathing thing? You breathe in for five seconds, hold it for five seconds, and then breathe out for five.”

She stopped and demonstrated, one finger tapping out the seconds on the metal of his desk.

“Does it help?” he asked and she shrugged, “Sometimes? Not all the time, but lately I’ve been using it again because I kind of suck at drifting and it helps me focus.”

“You ‘suck’ at drifting,” Hermann repeated, “That’s funny, I don’t recollect you having that problem when you were instrumental to stopping an apocalyptic event at Mt. Fuji.”

She rolled her eyes, huffing another dramatic sigh, “That was with _Jake,_ he’s easy. But we’re supposed to be able to drift with anyone and…” she trailed off.

“Are you less compatible with the rest of the cadets?” Hermann asked,

“Um... _well_ …” she glanced at him sidelong, “See the new cadets are like... _really_ interested in me? Because of Mt. Fuji and it’s weird because half the friends I made died in that fight and then Jinhai is so nice and I’m not and then I get mad at him sometimes and I feel really bad and Vik…” she trailed off a second time, her cheeks turning pink.

“Ah,” Hermann said quietly and she whirled to look at him.

“What _ah,_ what does that mean?” she demanded.

“It means, you just explained your current issues with drifting quite succinctly,” he said with a seed of patience, “I can see the problem quite clearly now.”

He made no comment on her very visible infatuation with Cadet Malikova. This was not the first time Amara had mentioned her in conversation.

“Any idea how to _fix it?”_ she asked and Hermann sighed and shook his head, “Sadly no I do not.”

And she looked him up and down once before leaning back on her hands and blowing air out the side of her mouth, “Well that sucks ass. You’re old you should have some wise words for me or something.”

Hermann looked up at her with brows raised, “Age does not automatically equal wisdom Amara, for example Newton and I are almost the same age and look where his actions have landed him.”

She inhaled sharply, her own brows lifting high on her forehead, “Yikes dude, point taken.”

At that moment a new voice called from the doorway, “Hey Smallie, you’re late to training _again,”_ and Jake stood in the doorway, hands on hips looking to all the world like a dissatisfied parent.

“And what did I tell you about bothering Dr. Gottlieb?” he asked her severely.

“Ms. Namani really isn’t a bother,” Hermann said quietly as Amara opened her mouth to object (probably to the premise of the ranger’s question), “Although I would prefer she find a better place to sit than my desk,” he added looking at her pointedly.

“I made sure not to sit on any of your papers,” Amara protested as she hopped off his desk, “And that’s really hard because they are _everywhere.”_

With that Jake came in and gripped her arm, saying with mild admonishment, “Come on Smallie, let the Doctor work,” and began to tow her at the door.

“Hey, come sit with us at dinner instead of hiding in here all day,” she said to Hermann as Jake pulled her towards the door. And by ‘us’ Hermann was fairly certain she meant the gaggle of barely post-pubescents that made up the jaeger pilot recruits.

“I do not _hide_ Amara, and I hardly think that would be wise,” he said as they reached the doorway and she called out, “Lame dude, see ya later,” before they turned the corner and went out of sight.

As he sat and listened to their footsteps recede, he heard Jake mutter, “the man had breakfast with me yesterday, don’t pester him.”

“He said I’m _not_ pestering,” Amara’s said firmly.

“The doctor is very kind,” Jake said, dry as desert sand.

And Hermann was left alone once again, finding he might in fact miss the company.

He dismissed the notion quickly and returned to the comforting certainty of mathematics. Even after all these years there was something soothing in the constants of numbers and equations. Much like Amara’s counting, he was always able to find calm between the curve and circumference of functions and variables.

\---

And eventually the week passes and it's time to see Newton again.

When Hermann walks into Newton’s cell, bracing himself for the worst, it is simply Newton, looking like himself (No less thin than the week before, but there is a little color back in his cheeks). He looks quizzically at Hermann and asks, “Is there a reason why that Lambert guy told me, in like the nicest way possible, to chill?”

And Hermann has to bite back an audible groan at the thought of the slightly wearying concern he’s been receiving subtly and not so subtly all week. He both appreciates it and has no idea what to do with it or how to receive it.

What he says aloud after a brief pause is, “I believe there has been some concern for my well being after our rather tumultuous meeting last week.”

Newton’s eyebrows lift ever so slightly before he replies, “Well, that’s nice I guess.”

“Nice?” Hermann repeats, flat and incredulous at once.

“Yeah dude, it’s nice that you’ve got people looking out for you,” Newton says and he sounds genuine. Hermann wonders if he would have cared to be one of those people in another life where events had transpired differently.

He doesn’t say that aloud though. Instead, he takes a seat and asks, “When did you begin drifting with the kaiju brain on your own?”

Newt makes a face at him, “Damn, right for the jugular today?” he asks and Hermann sighs, “Would you please answer the question Newton?”

And he watches Newton’s expression fracture.

“Um, I held out for like two years dude,” he says, like the words are painful to speak aloud and Hermann wants to be calm. He _wants_ to have measured conversations with Newton where he can come to fully understand the scope and breadth of the issue they’re facing.

But Newton’s response is so infuriating it takes him a minute, before he can speak. He even tries Amara’s trick with the counting and breathing and Newton asks, “Dude, are you okay?”

He’s beginning to think the next person who asks him that will get walloped with his cane.

When he is able to speak, in tightly controlled syllables he asks, “You were struggling with this for two years and you never thought to _say anything?”_

“What the hell was I supposed to say?” Newton asks, his voice cracking to match his expression, “Hey Hermann I think I might have a weird addiction to Kaiju brain?”

 _“Yes,”_ Hermann tries not to shout and he ends up nearly hissing through his teeth, _“Gutte gotte,_ Newton _yes you should have said that.”_

“And what would you have done Hermann?” Newt asks, his voice rising like a challenge.

“I do not know Newton, but if you had told me then perhaps we could have avoided _all of this,”_ he waves a hand sharply at their surroundings.

“You want me to say sorry again Hermann? Because I will if that will make you feel better,” Newton snaps, sharp and caustic.

“This is literally _the only thing you ought to be apologizing for Newton,”_ Hermann says through gritted teeth, _“Rather than apologizing for the things another entity did while controlling your body.”_

And at that Newton sits up straighter in his seat.

“What?”

“I said, you are not responsible for the things _they did with you._ Your only sin in this was that you did not tell anyone while you were still in control of _your own faculties,_ which is still completely egregious and absolutely merits an apology. _”_

And Newton just stares at him like Hermann’s words were a physical slap across his face.

Like he’s just been rudely awakened from sleep.

When he speaks, the words come out remarkably small and fragile, “You mean...you don’t blame me for Mako?” his voice is worn down to almost nothing and he can’t seem to look at Hermann as he adds, “Or for Shao Labs?”

Hermann sighs, deeply sad, deeply tired, and deeply wishing he could go back precisely two years to the first time Newton thought drifting with a kaiju brain was a reasonable idea so he can shake the man vigorously until he abandons the notion entirely.

“No Newton, I do not blame you for things that you did not do,” he says quietly, staring down at his own hands, remembering an embrace just outside the elevator. He wonders who it was that pushed him away so quickly.

“I only blame you for not telling me or _somebody_ what was happening before it was too late.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Newton nod his head emphatically, “Oh cool um...okay,” he says and the words sound shaky, “That’s um...that’s…”

Hermann looks up to see Newton biting down hard on his lower lip in what looks like an attempt to abort a fit of weeping. Hermann stands up, unsure of exactly what he’s hoping to achieve on his feet when Newt’s expression twists.

 _“Fuck..._ this is not fair...my time is not _up yet,”_ he snaps at someone not in the room and Hermann just takes a step closer.

“Is it them?” he asks quietly and Newton nods in one short, sharp jerk, his mouth twisting in strange shapes like maybe two entities are vying for control of it. Hermann sighs. He’s so tired and every inch of Newton speaks of exhaustion as a tear finally rolls down his cheek.

They have been through enough this week, he's sure of it. So this time he doesn't tell Newton to fight. He simply moves to stand beside his friend and take his hand.

“It’s okay Newton, I will see you next week,” he says gently and Newton nods, his mouth still twitching. Hermann watches, biting the inside of his cheek as Newton's eyes drift closed and then open again.

And his friend is gone.

He drops Newton’s hand and takes one step back, their presence making his stomach curdle.

“Hello again,” they say using his friends mouth, “You should find a better way to utilize this time rather than all that _fighting.”_ They smile at him and it looks sickly and plastic.

The fact that the Precursors will probably never understand is that he is fairly certain all those years of fighting only made their bond stronger. All that yelling broke down a lot of barriers and it might not have been the healthiest path to a friendship, but it was still their path and there was no denying it now. Somewhere between the line down the center of their lab and _“You would do that for me?”_ something was forged between them that could apparently withstand anything, even the kaiju trying to tear one of them apart from the inside out.

He knows now how he missed the change. It was a little more than two years after the Breach closed when Newton quit working at the PPDC. A little more than two years when Newton began working for Shao industries and grew increasingly distant for reasons Hermann didn’t quite fathom.

He fathoms them now.

And the Precursors are still watching him through Newton’s eyes and the PPDC is watching him on their cameras and apparently listening just outside the door.

So all he says aloud is, “I think I’m utilizing our time perfectly well, thank you,” and then he knocks on the door to be let out.

“You need to be careful Hermann,” they say to his back and his voice sounds eerie and almost multiplied, “You shouldn’t keep testing us.”

The door opens as he turns back to face his friend and the monsters beneath.

“And you shouldn’t keep testing me,” he says, chin raised high as he grips his cane and turns on his heel, stepping out the door and letting it swing shut behind him.

Nathan Lambert watches him with anxious eyes and Hermann glares at him sidelong, “Do not ask me if I am _okay_ Nathan, I am perfectly well.”

“Yeah?” Nathan asks, sounding full of disbelief.

 _“Yes,”_ Hermann replies emphatically, “I am doing better than _okay,”_ he says a little too sharply as he turns back towards the closed cell door.

“I think I am finally getting somewhere,” he murmurs under his breath and without any further explanation he says a quick, “Good day,” and heads down the hall to take some notes and try to put his latest theory down in words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on this chapter y'all, this last week was like THE BUSIEST WEEK AT WORK, it happens every year around this time. Also towards the beginning of May I'm getting my tonsils out(Yeah fuck those guys they aint worth shit) so I'll probably go dark for a week or something then because I will be off my ass on pain meds and feeling pretty shit.
> 
> Now all that aside after the last two chapters I thought we all needed A Break. I love writing Amara scenes and Jules finally got An Actual Scene! With more than two lines of dialogue!! I love her already.


	10. Interlude III

_To understand this next part, I need you to imagine the apocalypse. Imagine it happens tomorrow, and that everyone you ever knew, every place you’ve ever been, every performer whose work you admired, every band who’s ever written a song that meant something to you- all of it was gone. And that you survived._

_Imagine that feeling of loss, imagine that guilt, the pressure it would put on you. How you would change beneath that pressure. Now imagine that apocalypse occurring annually, a hundred times over. What would you do to stop it? What would you do to protect the ones you loved, the ones who also felt that terrible weight? That is the reality of our heroes. That is what will lead them down the path to their destinies._

_–Griffin McElroy, The Adventure Zone_

 

_Viktoriya_

One of Viktoriya’s greatest disappointment was the day she learned that the Kaidonovskys were not her parents. In retrospect it was such a childish idea, the way children believe in Santa Clause.

She saw them on tv, these heroes who fought monsters. And they looked like her. Blonde, russian, and square jawed.

She drew pictures of herself holding hands with Cherno Alpha and showed them to her grandparents, _“Ded, Baba,_ look! It’s me with mama and papa!” she would call out excitedly waving a crayon drawing in their faces.

Her grandparents were kind people, but too soft for the time they lived in.

Of course they lied.

“Yes _zaychik,_ there you are with mama and papa.”

A lie by agreement, or omission.

She simply didn’t question it. She only internalized this like it was fact and it wasn’t until she was eleven and they were both getting too sick to take care of her that she said, “Don’t worry, I’ll find mama and papa,” because she knew they worried about her.

That was when her grandmother’s weathered grey brow wrinkled even further. She took Viktoriya’s hand between both of hers which were bent with age and trembling.

 _“Zaychik,_ those pilots are not your parents,” she said gently and Viktoriya yanked her hand away, taking a step back.

“But you _said--”_

“You were a child and believing this seemed to make you less afraid,” her grandmother said softly while Viktoriya shook her head, not wanting to believe it.

“I’m sorry,” Grandmother said and Viktoriya ran out of the house so she didn’t start screaming.

She was so angry that day, it felt like her little body might break apart from it.

And she stayed angry right up until her grandparents died a year later. First _Baba,_ then _Ded_ followed only days later.

One thing led to another and soon after that, she ended up living on the streets with the other kids harvesting kaiju parts from carcasses. She was going to scrape together whatever she could in order to get into Vladivostok. She was going to become a Jaeger pilot or die trying.

And it nearly did kill her. Kaiju harvesting was dangerous and Kaiju Blue was rampant amongst their ragtag group. She stopped making friends quickly because it wasn’t worth it.

A sort of calm descended on her then, fueled by a goal and the grit it took to get there. Her life may not have been good to her in those days, but she survived it.

The first time she got the money together to take the entrance exam, she failed.

And she failed the second time too.

By the time she had enough to take the test a third time, all jaegers were being relocated to Hong Kong, and all training was now taking place at their Shatterdome.

It took her years, staying up until all hours of the night studying books she stole. She had to teach herself english and mandarin just so she could read the training manuals. All the while, she scraped together every penny and slowly made her way to Hong Kong. She spent awhile on the streets there, still harvesting and saving up.

By the time she was able to take the exam again, the Breach was closed, but the jaeger program remained. The belief was, they might need them again someday and Viktoriya was going to be there when they did.

\---

The entrance exam had a written component and a physical component.

She passed the written half easily, all those years of studying hadn’t been for nothing.

But the combat part…

She was still small, only just turned seventeen and rake skinny from years spent on the street.

It was a sparring session with staffs. The rule being that if one was knocked to the ground and stayed down for longer than ten seconds, they forfeit.

And Viktoriya wouldn’t stay down.

She remembers looking up in daze, pushing herself to her feet unsteadily for what must have been the fourth of fifth time. There were murmurs in the room from others waiting to take this same test.

And then amongst the proctors in the room, she saw the famous Mako Mori watching her with something almost knowing.

Her opponent knocked her feet out from under her with the staff causing her to land on her back this time, knocking the air from her lungs.

She got up again and saw Mako whispering something in the ear of one of those judges.

Technically she failed the test, but she was accepted into the program anyway.

Mako never came to see her in training, but Viktoriya knew who was responsible for her getting in.

It felt like a blessing. A benediction.

_Go forth child, as I once did._

And so Viktoriya Malikova became a recruit in the Jaeger Pilot Program. She continued to fight tooth and nail for her place in it over the next year and a half.

And then Amara Namani showed up.

\---

It would be simplistic to say Viktoriya hated her. This little scrap of a thing, barely a day over sixteen and the youngest recruit to date. (Now almost eighteen years old, Viktoriya feels practically world weary by comparison).

And Amara Namani gets in because she had happened to stumble into Jake Pentacost and built a poor excuse for a jaeger from trash and abandoned parts.

A part of her recognized something in Amara even then, but it was overwhelmed by the sheer unfairness of it all. She paid for her place in the program with blood and sweat, _she_ got in by luck and coincidence.

Of course Viktoriya couldn’t stand her.

Then jaeger drones attacked the Shatterdome.

Then the Breach was reopened.

And all the while, Amara was there beside her, gritting her teeth and pushing through it all.

In the Drift she saw the way Amara lost her family. She felt it happen like it was her own memory. Visceral and violent and they were gone before she could even understand what was happening.

In all her years of training from inside the academy and out, Viktoriya had achieved that certain level of calm acceptance. She knew herself and her troubles and had moved on from them towards her goal.

Amara was the exact opposite. She was angry and volatile and reckless.

Stepping into a drift with her was like stepping into a wildfire. Amara’s passion and anger were endless. She thinks without Jinhai there to balance them out they would never have been able to work together to pilot Bracer Pheonix. Their personalities seem wildly incompatible in isolation.

But they did drift, and then Amara went on to pilot Gipsy Avenger with Jake Pentacost and saved them all from extinction.

She thought Amara was just some cocky kid from nowhere and she learned very quickly how wrong she was.

Now their footing feels uncertain. If only because they understand each other and opened pieces of themselves up to each other, but that alone does not make a friendship.

When the three of them spend time together, they are still fire and water, and Jinhai is still the peacemaker.

Amara is quieter now, prone to bouts of sullen silence. Viktoriya wants to give her advice, if only because she’s had a year more of experience, but it always seems to come out to harsh and lofty.

They constantly seem to be swinging into and out of each other's orbit again. One moment they feel like friends, close and warm, the next second they are bitter enemies again and doing everything possible to to not start screaming where the new recruits could overhear them.

And Viktoriya could deal with that, she has dealt with many things and this new wrinkle in her life will not be her undoing.

Except for the way the light catches in Amara’s dark hair, or the way freckles splash recklessly across her cheeks, the way her eyes seem like the softest brown Viktoriya has ever seen.

 _This_ is not a problem she can simply overcome, and she’s not quite sure what to do about it.

 

_Amara_

She’s been visiting Hermann fairly often these days, mostly because he seems pretty worn down and doesn’t bat an eye or seem in any way put off if she gets mad about something stupid and shouts about it.

She comes into his office today to blow off steam because after her latest drift training session.

Viktoriya told her the counting thing was _distracting._

“I don’t know what she _wants_ from me,” Amara exclaims, “Does she want me to break the drift? _No she doesn’t.”_

Hermann watches her impassively from his seat at his desk, occasionally glancing down at his notepad where he’s also taking notes on some set of readings that are displayed on one of his many screens.

“Hermann, she makes me _so crazy_ sometimes. I would probably be better off drifting with a _freaking kaiju.”_

She stops short just then, her eyes widening at her own mistake. For his part, Hermann’s pen only pauses in its path across a page.

“Oh, Hermann I didn’t mean it like that, I _just--”_ Hermann holds up a hand to stem what would have been a verbal tidal wave. She stops talking, but jams both hands deep in her pockets, shifting her weight anxiously.

“I understand what you meant,” he says quietly. So quietly that she’s not sure she believes him.

“Really? Because I just meant--” he stops her again with a look that borders on wry.

“I _do_ in fact understand hyperbole Amara. It was a poor choice of words, but this office and the lab have seen far worse over the years.”

That makes Amara cross her arms over her chest, raising one eyebrow, “Really?”

“When Newton and I argued, we had a tendency to clear rooms,” he says quietly, still a little distracted by his notes, with a hint of amusement tugging at the edges of his mouth.

And skepticism turns to disbelief as Amara drops her arms and says, “You’re kidding.”

Hermann shakes his head, that smile widening a fraction, “About once a month Marshall Pentecost would come in and shout at us for being so unprofessional.”

She has a hard time imagining Hermann getting into any kind of argument _that_ intense. Mostly because he’s such a buttoned up guy. She wonders, for what feels like the hundredth time, what Newton was really like before he basically got body snatched by Kaiju. The picture Hermann paints of him is an interesting one.

As she considers this, she goes and perches on the edge of Hermann’s desk. (Lately he seems to be making a concerted effort to keep a small space clear on his desk for her to sit.)

“Still sorry I said that thing,” she says quietly and Hermann shoots her sidelong glance before turning back to his notes with a sigh.

“It’s fine, these days it takes more than that to upset me.”

And she knows what he means in a way that makes her wince, but he continues, “As for your issue, have you spoken to Cadet Malikova about your difficulty focusing? She has been in training for longer, she might have some useful advice.”

Amara rolls her eyes and sighs, “If by useful advice you mean her telling me to _‘just focus?’”_ she does a poor imitation of Vik’s accent and Hermann makes another note on his page before asking, “What does cadet Ou-Yang have to say on the matter?”

She huffs out a sigh of exasperation, “He didn’t _say_ anything. Which for Jinhai basically means he agreed, he was just being too nice to say anything.”

Hermann puts his pen down, looking up at her like he’s ready to say something really smart. Then his gaze seems to flick to something behind her and back.

“I think it might be best if you were on your way Amara,” he says quietly.

She glances back and sees Viktoriya and Jinhai both loitering just outside Hermann’s office, clearly trying to pretend they aren’t.

Jinhai is especially bad at pretending anything, he’s the worst liar she’s ever met and even as she watches, his eyes keep flicking towards the office doorway and then away again.

Vik at least puts on a good show, examining her nails and looking like she has a reason for being there.

(And if Amara spends a second too long staring at the way that small wave of hair crests over her cheekbone, whose to know?)

(Hermann probably, based on the look he gives her)

She sighs and hops off his desk, “See you ‘round Hermann.”

“And you, Amara,” he says with a small nod before turning back to his notes.

As soon as she’s out the door, Jinhai and Vik immediately grab her and drag her down the hall.

“What are you guys _doing?”_ she says, more confused than protesting but Vik just shoots her a look as they turn a corner and then asks, “What do you think you’re doing hanging out with that Dr. Gottlieb?”

Amara stares at the pair of them, Vik looking almost annoyed for some reason while Jinhai seems rapidly nearing anxious.

“What?” she asks and Vik rolls her eyes, “One of the new recruits said she saw you in Dr. Gottlieb’s office so we went to see for ourselves and…” she trails off making some disapproving sound and Amara just keeps staring.

“So what’s the problem?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest, “He’s fun to talk to.”

“Do you want to be a ranger or don’t you?” Viktoriya demands in undertones, mimicking Amara’s folded arms. Amara glares at the pair of them, “Don’t tell me you believe the bullshit people have been saying about him?” she says, keeping her voice low to match.

“You know that Jake likes him and so does the Marshall.”

“That’s not what she’s saying,” Jinhai murmurs softly and Viktoriya silences him with a look.

“No matter what they say, you’ll never be able to drift with the other recruits if they don’t trust you,” she says, her tone borders on icy.

“What are you saying?” Amara asks, edgy and uncertain, trying not to blush under Vik’s gaze.

“I’m _saying,_ the man who stood atop a building and _laughed_ while Illya and Suresh were _murdered,_ happens to be Dr. Gottlieb’s friend. That doesn’t _bother you?"_ Viktoriya asks, her eyes nearly sparking,

And as Amara understands she can practically feel herself pale beneath their collective gaze.

“It bothers me,” Amara says quietly.

“Then _why--”_ Vik begins, a hand out and ready to gesture emphatically as Amara interrupts.

“--It bothers him _too,”_ and that stops Viktoriya cold, getting her and Jinhai’s full attention in four words flat.

 _“That wasn’t Dr. Geiszler,”_ she whispers, “I don’t completely understand all of it but he wasn’t like that before. Hermann is convinced the kaiju did something to him. He’s hoping to fix it _and get his friend back,”_ she breaks off feeling out of breath like she just ran a mile in the jaeger rig. When neither Vik or Jinhai speak she continues, “He thinks his friend is still in there somewhere, that why he’s been visiting Dr. Geiszler down in the cell. And _yes_ it really freaks me out just thinking about Geiszler up on the building, laughing as Illya and Suresh died. _Of course that bothers me.”_

She stops talking only because of the lump forming in her throat and the way her eyes are starting to sting.

Still she pushes onward saying, “And I don’t care about the other recruits, you trust me don’t you?” her voice comes out so painfully small as she looks up at Jinhai and Viktoriya.

Jinhai is the first to respond, wordlessly pulling her into a hug while she bites back on the tears that threaten to pour.

 _"I trust you,”_ he whispers and she smiles without even meaning to.

“Thanks Jinhai,” she says and he steps back with a nod while she turns to Viktoriya.

For her part the older girl is watching with consideration, her arms still folded. From where Amara stands she can practically see the gears turning as Vik weighs it all out.

“Viktoriya?” she asks and she sounds so small and _so desperate._

And Vik doesn’t even blink, her gaze is rock steady as she replies, “I would trust you with my life Amara Namani.”

And Amara nods mutely, trying _very hard_ to not blush or _cry_ or do anything else that might be stupid to do in this moment.

Jinhai claps her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze while she takes a deep breath and tries to regain some composure.

And she sees Vik glance back down the hallway towards the office they came from.

“Well let us know of Dr. Gottlieb needs any assistance on his mission,” Vik says calmly.

“Yeah,” Jinhai adds agreeably, pulling Amara into a loose one-armed hug, “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours.”

Vik nods like she agrees, “There will be no more discussion of this amongst the other recruits,” she says like she’s just laid down a law. Knowing how Viktoriya tends to work, she may as well have.

They walk side by side the way they came and as they pass by Hermann’s office, JInhai makes sure to wave hello and Viktoriya nods a greeting. Hermann nods back at all three of them shooting Amara a perplexed look. She can only shrug and smile, still leaning into Jinhai and trying not to stare at Vik as they make their way back to the barracks.

 

_Liwen_

Liwen Shao faces the PPDC’s upper echelon. All seated high above, forcing her to feel small as she looks up at them from the floor, standing on the PPDC logo. That telltale eagle, with its wings spread wide and a star above its head.

“You’re not satisfied with the progress we’ve been making?” Liwen asks loftily up at them. It is hard to remain composed with all these men staring down at her. Especially after recordings of Dr. Gottlieb’s last two visits with Newton played on a projector, followed by the last two interrogation sessions.

The difference is marked. Hermann clearly was able to reach him the way no amount of government sanctioned questioning would. The electroshock therapy seems to have little effect as do the rest of their methods.

“When you suggested we keep Dr. Geiszler at the Shatterdome, you seemed to think Dr. Gottlieb would be the best way to get intel,” says the Russian Delegate.

“As you can see,” Liwen responds gesting back towards the projector, frozen on an image of Hermann holding Newton’s hand, “Dr. Gottlieb has been getting a better response and in a more humane fashion.”

“Marshall Shao we do not have time for humane if the world is at stake,” The American Delegate says and Liwen grits her teeth.

“You’re methods clearly haven’t had any effect, while mine do,” she says slowly and calmly, “As of right now with no immediate threat on the horizon, why don’t we just wait and let Dr. Gottlieb work?”

“His interest largely seems to be severing the connection with the Precursors. If he succeeds, we lose our only source of intel on the Kiaju,” says the Chinese Delegate.

“A source of intel that has given you literally nothing?” Liwen demands fighting to keep incredulity from her tone, “And could be actively gathering more intel on us while it still has control of Dr. Geiszler’s body?”

“We have not exhausted all our methods of gathering intel,” the British Delegate says.

“But we would have him moved to a different facility if such a decision was made,” adds the Chinese delegate.

And Liwen Shao stares up at all of them gritting her teeth as they turn to discuss amongst themselves. Finally the Chinese Delegate looks down at her and says, “We will notify you when a decision has been reached.”

Liwen Shao cannot explain to these men that in the face of monsters and death, now more than ever is the time to cling to their humanity. If one has to die, it should be with the knowledge that they hurt as few innocents as possible.

Liwen has plenty of innocent blood on her hands, if only by association and being unable to see a problem until it was too late.

It’s just one man’s life on the line and yet it seems like one too many.

Especially after watching those videos where he tearfully begged forgiveness for his mistakes. They had not told her they would be playing those videos, it took a lot for her to remain visibly unmoved by the content therein.

The Precursors made it clear enough that they weren’t done with the Earth when they first captured Dr. Geiszler.

And as Liwen politely bows her head before storming out of the room, she wonders about her own humanity, and what can possibly be done if the PPDC decides to throw their own decency away.

She wonders, not for the first time about the difference between winning and surviving and how much more her conscience can take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ages are buckwild now in terms of canon so like...I’m ignoring them.(Man the first PR had such a nailed down timeline too and now the Wiki is like, at some point Jake joined the Jaeger Academy WELL OKAY THEN) Also the staff weapon thing aint what they did in the first PacRim but hey...Viktoriya is hardcore and it felt right. And according to google the words for grandma and grandpa are ded and babushka, but children often call them ded and baba apparently? If somebody who knows Russian wants to direct me better on this feel free.  
> And also according to google zaychik means bunny, and is often used as a sort of pet name for children.
> 
> And y'know I wanted to write from Jules perspective but dang it having to invent a backstory for her from nothing was tiring and I Am Tired. Also played a little calvinball with what little I could find on Viktoriya's backstory. Like one person did a post on tumblr and I was pulling from that and then going however I felt like.
> 
> Other than that...well that ending was sure ominous wasn't it? Like yikes dudes.
> 
> And lastly a friendly reminder that in a little over two weeks I get my tonsils out and might go dark on here for a bit.


	11. Eleven Weeks After

_'Tis not too late to seek a newer world._  
_Push off, and sitting well in order smite_  
_The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds_  
_To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths_  
_Of all the western stars, until I die._  
_It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:_  
_It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,_  
_And see the great Achilles, whom we knew._  
_Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'_  
_We are not now that strength which in old days_  
_Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;_  
_One equal temper of heroic hearts,_  
_Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_  
_To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._

_-Ulysses, Alfred Lord Tennyson_

 

“So how are you Newton?” Hermann asks as he settles into his seat in Newton’s cell. Newton is himself today, in as much as he can be himself these days. His hands tap nervous rhythms against the arms of his seat where they’re kept by the restraints.

“Oh y’know,” Newton says vaguely, jerking his head to one side as if to indicate Hermann ought to fill in the rest.

Hermann supposes that he really can, given the circumstances so he simply nods, staring down at the floor.

The silence grows long and Newton eventually breaks it with, “Well, aren’t you going to ask me something? We’ve been averaging one question a week, I’d hate to break our streak.”

There’s an attempt at humor at the margins, but he sounds too on edge to actually carry it off. Hermann just sighs, “Honestly, I don’t have anymore questions,” he folds his hands in his lap, “I think at this point I have a pretty full picture of what happened.”

He’s not going to ask Newton about those two years. About what he was thinking or how often he was thinking about drifting in the moments when he went quiet and distant.

Newton squirms a little in his seat, “Oh,” he says, his mouth twisting in an unhappy line.

Hermann nods, and another silence falls over them, more heavy and awkward than the last.

“Do you remember that time you read me poetry?” Newton asks in seeming non-sequitur.

Hermann looks up with a frown, “Do you mean the time you had a panic attack and refused to come out from beneath your desk?”

Newton makes a face, the sort that might have normally been accompanied by folding his arms over his chest if they weren’t cuffed to his chair.

“I was _not_ having a panic attack dude,” he says, sounding vaguely offended and Hermann almost smiles but buries it beneath a raised brow, “I believe you absolutely were.”

Newton makes a scoffing sound, “Whatever dude I wasn’t, but that’s not my point.”

“Please do enlighten me then,” Hermann says and this sort of banter feels almost familiar.

 _“My point was,”_ Newton says slowly, “I was wondering if you remember the poem? It was long and talked about the ocean a lot, I remember that.”

Hermann looks up at him, feeling his brows furrow as he asks, “Why were you trying to remember that of all things?”

And Newt’s expression seems to crack, like a fissure opening in the earth, “No reason dude, it was just a rad poem.”

 _Do you also take comfort in remembering a time before you were enslaved to an alien race?_ Hermann wonders silently, feeling his own composure chipping away.

All he says aloud is, “It was Ulysses by Tennyson, I can bring it to read next week.”

Newton nods, “That would be really cool man, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Hermann replies, and he watches Newton try to smile, but it seems to immediately slip away like oil on water.

 _“Shit,”_ he mutters under his breath.

Hermann sits up straighter in his seat, “Is it Them?” he asks.

Newton shakes his head, “No dude, I _just…”_ he trails off for a moment, “I wish we could just _talk_ y’know?”

Hermann nods, “Yes Newton, I know.”

The other man nods back, his lips compressing in a hard line while Hermann settles back in his seat and tries not to tear at the seams. At the same time a question occurs to him, one he is willing to ask, if only to test the waters.

“Newton, do you know why they… Why _Th_ _ey_ stop you from talking to me when they do?” he asks and the other man stares at him, almost blank for an instant.

“I don’t know dude, I…” he trails off, his gaze tilting to the side and Hermann can practically feel the shift coming.

“No... _No,”_ Newton says quietly somewhere between frustration and determination, “We made _a deal,_ if you don’t keep your end…” he trails off again and Hermann wonders if in the silences he can hear their replies. He must based on the way he adds, _“Let me have this_ or lose your stupid human container.”

Hermann’s mouth goes dry as he attempts to parse out what that implies. He finds that he really does not like his own conclusions.

Newton’s eyes flicker back and forth, his expression twisting in pain or something else.

Hermann watches the man’s jaw tighten and then slowly it passes, his expression smoothing out into something like calm before his head falls forward like he no longer has the strength to hold it up.

“Newton?” Hermann asks gently, hands twisted in his lap to stop himself from reaching out. He can't keep doing things like that, not with the PPDC watching, not with Them watching. Not with Newton.

"Are you...?" he lets the question trail off, his intent clear enough if difficult to verbalize.

“Yeah dude,” comes from the man's deeply exhausted, but human sounding reply.

“Sorry,” Hermann says, biting his lower lip and trying to hold himself back from doing a stupid thing like holding Newton’s hand. He already regrets asking the question when he had an inkling They wouldn't let him answer. It was simply testing a theory and it was to Newton's detriment.

“Seriously man, don’t apologize,” Newton says, lifting his head slowly to lean it back against his seat. Hermann wants to disagree while also trying desperately not to stare at the man’s adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard. But there's another question knocking at Hermann's teeth, one that shouldn't hurt anyone except himself, “When I couldn’t speak to you…” he begins, uncertain of how to ask what he’s been wondering for eleven weeks and uncertain if he should ask at all. Newton lifts his head slightly to look at him.

“When I was only speaking to Them…” he trails off again and now Newton sits straight again watching him with open curiosity.

“I suppose I was barely speaking then, I just sat here _reading_ most of the time,” Hermann continues and he’s rambling now, barely able to make eye contact, let alone string together a coherent sentence, but Newton makes no attempts to cut him off, “I was just wondering if…my visiting, did it... Did it help?”

He forces himself to look at Newton then, trying to seem as if this question isn’t some small piece of himself he meant to keep close and quiet.

Newton’s expression is one of fragments, too many emotions flickering through his eyes, some of them might not even be his own.

“Yeah...it helped,” he says, voice cracking like an eggshell.

“Oh,” Hermann says softly, nodding his head and finding himself unable to say anything further for what feels like an age.

In the silence, he listens to the other man breathe, ragged and uneven.

Hermann was always the quiet one. The one who never knew quite what to say.

Newton was the one who talked. Often too much, like he was allergic to silence, but the man knew how to fill that void in a way Hermann never could.

It’s almost funny that even now, in spite of everything, Newton is still the one to break the silences every time.

“So what are you reading these days?” he asks in a blatant attempt at normalcy that Hermann will happily cling to like a life raft.

“I am finally reading the Silmarillion,” he says quietly and Newton huffs out a laugh, “You like it better than the Lord of the Rings don’t you?”

“It’s very interesting,” Hermann says, careful and quiet. Yes, he finds happens to find the historical underpinnings of a fictional world based mostly in European history and myth very interesting.

“Nerd,” Newton mumbles, a fragile smile forming on his lips

“Imbecile,” Hermann replies like a reflex. A smile as delicate as Newton’s finding a home on his face.

The hour passes too quickly and they talk about almost nothing of substance. Bickering out of habit for the ease and comfort of it. For one hour they pretend they aren’t in a cell and they pretend there aren’t monsters in Newton’s head. Together they build a small bubble of shared ordinary. These days, to live unremarkably would be a blessing for them both. 

For one hour they pretend that is their reality.

When the hour is up, there’s a quiet knock on the cell door. Nathan opens it and sticks his head inside looking sheepish and apologetic, “Time’s up you guys.”

Hermann stands up smoothly, trying to bury any emotion that might leak out at having their charade shattered so easily.

He moves towards the door with a brief nod for Newton only to stop at the other man’s query, fraught with tension, “You won’t forget to bring that Tennyson thing right?”

There’s so much more buried in that question and he looks back at Newton, already seeing Them bubbling up to the surface.

“Ulysses,” he says softly, “I won’t forget.”

And he leaves before he can watch his friend be forced to vacate the room.

\---

It is unusual for Hermann to be summoned to the Marshal's office. Although, he supposes that for such a new Marshal, he shouldn’t be applying norms just yet.

If the change in routine is worrisome in any way, he pays it no mind.

He steps into Liwen Shao’s office to find her standing by the window.

Most of the Shatterdome is underground, but the Marshal's office is near the top of the dome itself, the windows looking out over the metropolitan spread of Hong Kong.

It’s evening now and the sun has set deep and pink on the horizon. In the distant dark, lights are beginning to come on and brighten the city below. Meanwhile the office is still bathed in the last of day’s waning golden light.

Marshal Shao does not look at him as he enters the office.

“You saw Dr. Geiszler today did you not?” she asks, one hand coming to rest on the curved sill of her window.

“I did,” Hermann says, staying close to the door since it doesn’t feel right to take a seat at her desk while she remains at the window. He leans a little heavier on his cane and waits to see what she might have called him here for.

In all the time he’s known Liwen Shao she has not been one for frivolous acts or conversations. He knows there is a reason for him to be here today beyond idle chatter.

“How is the doctor doing?” she asks, still examining the horizon and the setting sun.

“As well as can be expected,” Hermann replies and she nods, finally turning to face him.

“You told me recently that you had a theory about Dr. Geizler’s condition that you were reticent to have me report to the PPDC,” she says, and her gaze is laser sharp.

“I did,” Hermann says slowly.

“I think it would be best if you tell me now,” she says and Hermann feels as if the earth might be tilting on a new axis.

“Why?” he asks.

“I have just been informed that the PPDC has decided to pursue new avenues in their handling of the Precursors and Dr. Geiszler,” she says, “Today was your last visit with him.”

And just like that, he feels his world upending. Reversing in on itself. Shrinking claustrophobically around him, except Newton was the one afraid of small spaces, not him.

 _I was going to read him Ulysses,_  he thinks faintly.

The Marshal looks almost sympathetic as she studies him now.

“Come sit down, Dr. Gottlieb,” she says and he’s in such disarray, he doesn’t even notice when she pulls out the chair for him to sit before settling on her side of the desk. Finally, he grasps at a real question that might have a real answer, “You asked my theory, what does it matter now if they are removing him from Hong Kong?”

And she purses her lips like she’s considering how to phrase her next statement.

“I can delay them for a day, maybe two. If you had an idea for how to...recover Dr. Geiszler, now would be the time,” she says delicately.

“The PPDC would never sanction it,” Hermann says, certain and uncertain in equal parts.

“I would not be asking permission,” she says, her gaze sharp as an arrow. He opens his mouth to speak when she interrupts him to add, “I would not be giving you permission either. If you make any actions on behalf of Dr. Geiszler I would simply be…” she pauses, searching for the words, “Unavoidably busy, as would any guards stationed at his holding cell.”

Hermann feels his mouth go bone dry as the ramifications of her statement sink in. She watches him a moment before adding, “It could lose you your job in the best case scenario. At worst, you could end up being arrested,” and it's candid and understanding by turns as Hermann stares at her, utterly gobsmacked.

“Now, knowing all the facts, would you like to tell me your theory?” she asks with a gentle precision and Hermann stares for a moment longer before sitting up straight in his seat and saying, “Marshal, even if my theory is actionable, and I’m not sure it is, there’s no way I would be able to act it out alone.”

At that she smiles, a small, knowing smile.

“Dr. Gottlieb, you happen to have some very well known friends. One might go so far as to call them _heroes,”_ He opens his mouth to object, but she simply continues, “The PPDC could not afford to publicly part with such beloved figures without severely damaging their own image.”

And there’s that smile again, almost a smirk now.

“There’s no reason for such an event to be made public,” Hermann says with a frown and her smile turns razor sharp.

“Oh, some of us would make sure that it does.”

Hermann gapes at her again and she shakes her head at him, still amused in some small way.

“The only career you would be endangering is your own if you chose to go down this path. That, at least, I can assure you,” she says, calm and gentle.

The sun outside has almost fully set, but the lights of Hong Kong are bright and bleed in through the window in many colors as the golden sunlight fades to darkness.

“So,” she says quiet and steady, the lights from the window glinting in her eyes, “Do you have a theory you might want to act on?”

Hermann stares at her in the dark and considers it all. Of course, there really is nothing to consider, there’s no choice to make here, or if there is a choice it's one he made long ago.

Perhaps he made the choice ten years ago in a junkyard in Hong Kong when he clumsily gripped Newton’s hand and said with naive certainty that they were going to _own this thing for sure._

Maybe it’s a choice he made the day his father died, or the day Newton quit the PPDC, or the day he decided to read Newton poetry to try and calm the man’s third panic attack that month.

Maybe it’s a choice he made the day he numerically mapped out the trajectory of the end of the world and that damnable man was the one to stand beside him and say, _it’s okay,_ as he broke down over their inevitable demise.

Maybe it doesn’t matter when he made that choice. The fact is, the decision had been made long ago and he has no choice now but to follow through. Because Hermann has very few people in his life who matter and Newton is the one who matters the most.

 _‘Hey Hermann, I know a joke you’ll actually like,’_ Newton once scrawled on a birthday card for Hermann that he had clearly made himself, _‘Your living, you occupy space, you have mass. You know what that means? You matter.’_

A strangely prophetic note and one he only smirked at then, rather than say he found the sentiment touching. It was true then and it remains true now in both directions.

His theory is barely a theory at all. To call it actionable might be an exaggeration in terms and to follow it through might kill him.

Still, he looks Liwen Shao in the eye and says to her question and all the unsaid questions with it

“I have a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And boom goes the dynamite.
> 
> For those of you who read Amongst All Creatures Wild And Tame, I can only say the poetry bit is a partial reference? Ulysses is one of my other favorite poems and Very Applicable to Hermann in general and this chapter so yeah, not an accident but at this point that whole fic is a massive AU so :/ (Also I think in any universe Hermann would appreciate classical poetry and Newt would be prone to panic attacks)


	12. Eleven Weeks After Part II

_We here have been brutalized with loss._  
_It has made us brutal in return._  
_There is no going back from this moment._

_-Penny Dreadful, written by John Logan_

 

“Ranger Pentecost,” Hermann Gottlieb greets Jake, sitting in the mess hall with Nate and Jules on either side of him.

There have been rumblings around the base.

Rumors of something coming.

Something happening.

And now Dr. Gottlieb is standing in front of him looking utterly worn down, leaning heavily on his cane and asking, “Could I speak to you outside please?”

He hasn’t known the man for a very long time, but in the last few months that he’s become acquainted with the mathematician, Dr. Gottlieb has never asked him for anything.

It seems portentous, even as such a small request.

He looks at Nate and Jules to find them both watching, silent and on edge.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before getting up and following Hermann out of the mess hall.

When they reach the hall outside, Hermann looks around. Almost like he’s worried about being overheard.

“It might be best if we talked in my office, do you mind?” he asks and Jake can’t help but give him an odd look, his sense of trepidation growing.

“Sure.”

The walk is quiet, and the whole time he finds himself glancing over at Hermann, wondering what this might be about.

Only when they reach the office and Hermann closes the door behind them, does he look at Jake.

“I would like to ask your help with something that might involve breaking some laws. Or at least some PPDC regulations which could get us both arrested,” he says and Jake’s eyebrows climb into his hairline.

Hermann just stands there, watching Jake like he’s waiting for a reaction, but Jake can tell there’s more, so he waits.

“It’s about Newton,” Hermann eventually says, fidgeting with the handle of his cane.

“I had a feeling,” Jake says dryly, unable to help the frown that’s forming.

“Marshall Shao informed me that the PPDC has decided to move him out of the Shatterdome.” Hermann says in a rush, They want to pursue other avenues to gain intelligence about the Precursors.”

And that’s when Jake’s lip curls in distaste, “What kind of avenues?”

Hermann glances at him, tight lipped and tired, “I don’t know, I believe they were already interrogating him on a semi-regular basis. I can only imagine these new avenues would be worse.”

And he’s probably not wrong. Jake knows from personal experience, just how ruthless the PPDC can be. It’s all in the name of the greater good, but there is some cruelty in their methods that he finds hard to abide. Of course in a situation like this, Jake’s not sure there is a good choice to be made, just a series of bad ones.

The way Hermann looks at him now speaks volumes.

The man is clearly desperate and on the edge of making some potentially catastrophic choices.

“And you want to break him out, don’t you?” Jake says, jamming his hands into his pockets and staring the older man down. Hermann meets his gaze for a moment before sighing and turning away to sit down at his desk. He moves slowly, like the motion pains him, and only once he’s seated does he look Jake in the eye and say, “Yes.”

Jake turns to pull up another chair to Hermann’s desk so he can sit down across from him.

Once he’s seated, he leans forward, one arm folded across his lap while he holds his chin in his other hand.

“Hermann, you know Dr. Geiszler still has the Precursors in his head,” Jake says as gently as he can, “I understand wanting to protect him from the PPDC but what are you going to do with him after you jailbreak him?”

And Hermann does not even blink.

“I have a plan,” he says steadily and Jake leans back in his seat, feeling a hint of a smile forming.

“Well, let's hear it.”

\---

Amara was heading to breakfast with Vik and Jinhai right as Nate and Jules were leaving the mess hall.

This is what she heard:

“What do you think Hermann wanted from Jake?”

“Whatever it was, he couldn’t ask it in public so it’s probably serious.”

“Do you think it’s about Dr. Geiszler.”

“Of course it’s about Dr. Geiszler.”

And then they're past her and impossible to hear over the noise in the hall. Amara freezes in place, staring after the pair of them and when she looks back, she can see Jinhai and Vik watching her.

“Did you hear that?” she asks softly.

They both nod and none of them move. They're just a few feet from the mess hall entrance, people are stepping around them to get in and out but Amara doesn’t move, her brain churning a mile a minute.

What was happening with Dr. Geiszler that Hermann would need to ask Jake for help?

Hermann was not the sort to ask for help. When some dude knocked him to the ground, he was ready to fight it out with just his cane.

He doesn’t ask for help, that much she feels certain of.

If he’s asking it must be serious.

It must be _really_ serious.

Vik and Jinhai are still watching her, waiting.

“You want to check in on Dr. Gottlieb don’t you?” Viktoriya finally asks and it's almost a relief not to have to say it. She nods furiously and Viktoriya nods back.

It’s Vik who muscles them through the throng, towards Hermann’s office, her hand clamped on Amara’s wrist and Amara tries not to melt at the contact.

Jinhai follows behind them, steady and calm as ever, a small smile on his lips.

\--

After hearing Hermann’s plan, Jake folds his arms.

“If you want to pull this off, you’ll need more help than just me,” he tells Hermann flatly and Hermann can’t help but wince at the thought.

“I would rather not endanger the welfare of more people,” he says quietly, staring down at his shoes. And Jake stares at him in mild consternation.

“You asked me because I’m probably famous enough to avoid a serious smackdown from the PPDC didn’t you?” he asks and Hermann winces, visibly this time, hitching up one shoulder before nodding his head. Said like that, it sounds quite cold and calculated. He wants to explain that this was Marshall Shao’s suggestions but he’s not sure if that will help or hurt his case.

“Well, that’s good of you mate,” Jake says with something nearing humor, “If you want to pull this off you’re still going to need more than just me.”

And Hermann looks up at him, appalled and anxious, his hands fisted in his lap.

He really doesn’t want to put any more people at risk if he can avoid it.

At that moment his office door opens and Amara, Viktoriya, and Jinhai all spill into the room, with Jinhai closing the door behind them.

“What…?” Hermann asks faintly, staring at the three of them in utter perplexity, but Amara beats him to it.

“Hermann, what’s going on? Nate and Jules said you went to Jake for help? What’s wrong? Is it Newt?”

The questions spill out at almost hyper speed and Hermann can feel his brows climb as he glances over at Jake to see a matched expression.

It’s Jake, who responds first, saying, “Smallie, this isn’t any of your business. Same goes for you two,” he jerks his chin pointedly at Jinhai and Viktoriya who don’t budge and Amara just plants her feet.

“It _is_ my business because Hermann is my friend,” she glares at the both of them as if daring Hermann or Jake to disagree.

It’s sweet, it might even warm some of the hurt that sits, sharp-edged in Hermann’s chest, but it could not be more poorly timed. He sighs and leans forward, hands pressing down on his knees.

“Amara, I appreciate this gesture, I truly do,” he says softly, “But what we’re discussing is dangerous.”

“It’s not a _gesture_ Hermann,” she shoots back, eyes flashing and arms folding across her chest, “And in case you’ve forgotten, we fought kaiju, so please don’t start talking down to me about shit being _dangerous,”_ she says with such anger, Hermann’s almost sure he can see tears forming in her eyes.

And Hermann just stares at her, slightly appalled and worrying his lower lip with his teeth. He feels like he should be asking Jake’s permission before involving his cadets in any manner. Just informing them of the situation could make them accomplices.

He looks at Jake again and the man looks about as lost as he feels.

Finally Hermann says, “It is Newton,” as a means of concession, but she just takes another step forward.

“He’s in trouble isn’t he?” she asks and Hermann mentally weighs the question before answering with a nod. He really isn’t sure what he can say, but he needs to impress upon them the severity of this situation.

Now is not the time for grand gestures, for clasped hands and exclamations of _owning this thing for sure._

Not when lives could be on the line.

One of them, his own.

He considers his words for a minute before saying, in careful, precise syllables, “Attempting to assist me, might get you all arrested by the PPDC. Hence my hesitation.”

“So?” she asks and in this moment she really does remind him of Newton. All that passion and recklessness making for a dangerous mixture.

“So you might be potentially banned from the Jaeger pilot program,” Jake says beside him, “And all your hard work could be for nothing,” he looks at each of them in turn.

At that, Amara finally hesitates.

She looks at Hermann.

“You’re going to try and save him aren’t you?” she asks him and Hermann has to look away. That’s such a childish way to think of it, like he’s coming in on a white horse to save the day when really he could end up killing them both and dooming the human race.

“Amara, you are young. You should not be putting your life’s work on the line for me.”

“Weren’t you the one who said age doesn’t automatically equal wisdom?” she asks, still not budging and Hermann is far too tired to be having this conversation.

“That was an entirely different scenario Amara,” he says, but she just turns her back on him so she can face her two fellows.

“He’s my friend, you guys can back out now, if you want,” she says to them.

“Smallie…” Jake says from his seat beside Hermann and she turns her head to glare at them, “Both of you _shut up right now,”_ and she turns back to Viktoriya and Jinhai.

“So…” she says to them, tense and clearly waiting for an answer.

Viktoriya is the one who speaks first.

“I said I would trust you with my life…I did not expect to have to prove that so soon.”

Hermann can practically see Amara holding her breath as the older girl claps a hand on her arm.

“I’m with you,” she says and Jinhai nods clapping a hand on her other arm, “Me too.”

_You would do that for me? Or...You would do that with me?_

Hermann can’t help but remember another scene from another time. He looks away, brushing a hand over his eyes as Viktoriya looks directly at him, her gaze laser sharp.

“We will help you on your mission,” she says and Hermann wants to melt into his seat, but beside him Jake just chuckles and shakes his head which earns him three pubescent glares.

“I think you’ve got the extra help Dr. Gottlieb, although,” he looks at the three of them, “No offense to you lot, I _did_ have someone else in mind.”

And Hermann can’t even be appalled anymore. The rational part of him knows Jake is right and he needs more help. If anything happens, if Newton gets free of the restraints when he isn’t himself or the PPDC guards attempt to intervene too early…

He bites his lower lip and nods to Jake, who nods back and gets up, stepping around the three kids to open the office door.

“Oh,” he says, opening it to reveal Nathan Lambert and Jules Reyes. Nathan’s hand still floating in the air, poised to knock on the metal that is no longer before them.

“Oh,” Nathan replies, apparently equally surprised, but Jake just pulls them both into the office and shutting the door.

“Would you guys mind potentially breaking some laws to help out a friend?” he asks lightly, steering them past Amara and her friends to stand in front of Hermann.

“Maybe,” Jules says, eyeing Hermann up and down, “What laws and for whom?”

“We’re saving Dr. Geiszler,” Amara chimes in from behind them, which causes Jules to raise an eyebrow while Hermann presses a hand to his forehead.

“They’re removing Dr. Geiszler from the facility and revoking Hermann’s access,” Jake tells them and that causes both Jules and Nathan to stare at Hermann.

“Shit,” Nathan says and Jules shakes her head, “Okay, I get it now.”

They step back, while Amara, Viktoriya, and Jinhai step forward all forming a loose circle around where Hermann and Jake sit.

“So what’s the plan?” Jules asks and Hermann can feel his lips compress beneath their collective gazes.

It is only now, this very moment that he realizes.

All these people have so willingly stepped into his corner, consequences be damned.

He can only pray that this works, that they will trust him to make it work, and that it doesn’t all fall to pieces on their heads.

He takes a breath, hands pressing down on his knees.

“We’re going to break Newton out of his cell, bring him down to the lab and then I’m going to Drift with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so sorry for the delay, um Infinity War happened to me. For those of you who interacted with me on Tumblr, I apologize for all the caps lock I was having a case of FEELINGS. I’m still not over it, I’m two chapters deep in something about that.  
> Also this is probably going to be my last chapter for a minute. As I’ve mentioned I’m getting surgery next week (Bye bye tonsils you were literally good for nothing) so like...yeah. Just expect a small delay probably before the next chapter.  
> Also oh hey, boom goes the plot dynamite, are we really surprised by it though? Probably not. And we’re probably going to start playing a little calvinball with POVs even outside of interlude chapters because plot needs must.


	13. The Plan Begins

_And the walls kept tumbling down_  
_In the city that we love_  
_Great clouds roll over the hills_  
_Bringing darkness from above_

 _But if you close your eyes,_  
_Does it almost feel like_  
_Nothing changed at all?_  
_And if you close your eyes,_  
_Does it almost feel like_  
_You’ve been here before?_

_Pompeii, Bastille_

 

Five pairs of eyes are locked on Hermann as his last statement seems to echo in the suddenly silent office.

_“We’re going to break Newton out of his cell, bring him down to the lab and then I’m going to Drift with him.”_

Only Jake leans back in his chair, Hermann having already explained a bit of this to him before.

The others simply stare at him for what feels like an hour until Jules Reyes finally holds up a finger, “Okay, I see at least one _minor_ issue here.”

And then everyone proceeds to talk at once. How was he going to fix Newton through Drifting? Had he thought of what would happen if the Precursors infected him too?

Only Amara is silent for the moment, staring at him wide-eyed, her lips pressed in a thin line.

When Jake motions for them to be quiet, she asks softly, “Do you think it will work?”

Hermann looks at her first before turning to the others.

“I don’t _know_ the answers to most of your questions,” he says and holds up a hand as Viktoriya looks ready to interject again.

“What I _do_ know is that everytime I have been able to speak to Newton, the Precursors seem to interfere when he…” Hermann trails off, his hands tightening in his lap with nothing to hang onto.

Even Jake is watching him now, he hadn’t had a chance to explain his theory aloud yet.

“When he gets...emotional...” Hermann struggles to say the words aloud, staring down at his shoes, “...About us.”

Jules has a hand over her mouth while Nate simply blinks at him and Amara looks down at her shoes, scuffing them on the floor with Jinhai and Viktoriya glancing between him and Jake as if waiting for the final shoe to drop. Jake is looking at him too, but thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed as he considers this.

“It seems the Precursors are what made Newton keep his distance for almost ten years,” he continues, glancing around at all of them, “And I think... _our_ connection might be their weak spot.”

The silence following his words is a long one with many traded looks and glances and Hermann waits, hands fisted in his lap.

“Are we supposed to be surprised you and Dr. Geiszler have feelings for one another?” Viktoriya asks with a frown, “Because I thought that was common knowledge.”

Hermann briefly wonders when his life got this appalling and how it’s apparently been obvious to everyone else this whole time.

And Amara’s staring at Viktoriya, a furious blush climbing up into her cheeks.

“He’s right though,” Jake murmurs from his seat beside Hermann, “The Drift is all about that connection, that _compatibility.”_

“And this won’t be my first time,” Hermann adds, because he’s been thinking about this for awhile now. It’s important they all understand the variables in the equation.

“We Drifted once before.”

That gets everyone’s attention in a heartbeat.

 _“What?”_ Amara asks, her voice high pitched and strained.

“Well you all know that Newton Drifted with the Kaiju in order to get the intel that Mako Mori and Raleigh Beckett would use to close the rift?” Hermann says suddenly feeling the need to choose his words with extra care, “Well he Drifted twice. The first time was alone, the second time with me.”

He looks up at them all, “He nearly died bearing the full neural load of the Kaiju hivemind the first time, so the second time I stepped in.”

Amara is still gaping at him, but Jake frowns again.

“Hermann how--” he begins and Jules interrupts, “He wants to know how come you’re not Kaiju possessed or if we need to be worried about you now.”

As Jake glares up at Jules, Hermann can only sigh and say, “I suppose there is an element of trust here. I only drifted with them once, and never bore the full brunt,” he says carefully and deliberately, “I may have felt an inkling of the urge that drove him to where he is but it was easily ignored.”

“Dr Gottlieb,” Nate speaks up, the concern plain on his face, “What’s going to happen if you Drift with them again?”

“I don’t know,” Hermann says softly, “I just know that I’ve run out of time and I won’t let them take him without trying everything I can…”

He trails off, uncertain of where that sentence leads.

“Everything you can do to save him,” Amara says looking him in the eye with a hint of a smile.

“So you have an idea for how to do this?” Viktoriya asks and Hermann can’t help a smile of his own.

If Newt were himself and here right now he would love this.

“You have a practice Drift apparatus,” he says looking to the three cadets, “with a few modifications, I believe it will work to suit our purposes.”

He turns to look pointedly at Nate, “And the Marshall did lead me to believe there would be no other guards on his holding cell,” looking back at Jake, he adds, “It’s the part where we get him from his cell to the cadets practice area with nobody find us or Newton potentially escaping that needs work.”

And Jake nods because this is the part he knew and the part where he had told Hermann they needed more help.

And now help is here and they’ve got work to do.

\---

“Are you _sure?”_ Amara whispers to Viktoriya and Jinhai for what must be the hundredth time as they are heading to the cadets practice area of the Shatterdome with Hermann a few feet behind, pretending he’s not heading in the same direction.

She’s only asking because while she values their show of support, she just _needs_ to make sure, that they’re sure about this.

 _“Yes,”_ Jinhai whispers back while Viktoriya simply stairs straight ahead, her stride never wavering.

“Do not ask questions you know the answer to,” she says to Amara, “I do not wish to repeat myself.”

And Amara tries very hard not to physically wilt at that, when Jinhai wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“Chin up Namani, we’re saving your friend. Now is not the time to worry.”

“When should I worry?” she asks, trying not to grit her teeth or stare at Vik.

“Oh, you’ll know when,” Jinhai says, still smiling in spite of how ominous that sounds. And the glance he throws her says that he just realized it too. She just shakes her head at him and faces forward.

Their task is to keep the other cadets out of the practice room. Jake and Nate will be along soon enough and they’ll send the other cadets away _officially._ Everybody is getting the rest of the day off apparently.

But as Hermann works on their practice Drift apparatus, they’ll have to come up with some reason for other people to stay out until then.

Hermann suggested a gas leak but if that fails Amara is pretty sure she can convince people Jake asked her to keep the room empty so he could brush up or something.

If that fails...well she could just start crying and faint and see where that gets them.

They reach the door to the practice room first, sidling to the side so Hermann can squeeze past them and then trying to form an inconspicuous blockade in front of the door as it shuts behind them.

“We should keep talking to each other, we’ll draw more attention if it _appears_ like we’re blocking the entryway,” Viktorya says, angling to face Amara and Jinhai.

“But we _are_ blocking the doorway,” Amara says and Vik rolls her eyes in that way that makes Amara want to kiss her or slap her upside the head.

“The point is to keep people out,” Viktoriya says slowly, keeping her voice low, “We only have to make an excuse if we’re approached. We’ll be approached a lot faster if we _look_ like we’re trying to keep people out.”

“That does make sense,” Jinhai murmurs.

“Okay why is that a thing you know?” Amara asks and Viktoriya bends down ever so slightly, her face inches from Amara’s

“Another time I’ll tell about the years I spent doing minor criminal activities in order to…” Vik trails off, her eyes flicking to something behind Amara and meanwhile Amara is trying not to blush or sweat or do anything stupid while they’re faces are _inches apart._

“Marshall Shao,” Vik says, straightening to military posture, her tone immediately formal as she salutes and Amara spins to see Liwen Shao standing in front of them.

“Marshall,” Amara echoes with a salute, Jinhai follows suit beside her.

“It seems the practice room is out of order?” The Marshall observes, with the smallest frown while Vik is elbowing Amara for some reason and Amara is just trying not to panic.

“There’s been a gas leak,” Jinhai practically blurts out and from the corner of her eye, Amara can see Vik aim a look that would peel paint in his direction.

“Then it would seem you cadets will have the day off,” the Marshall says and there’s the barest hint of a wink in her eye. A spark of amusement.

“I will make sure the other cadets are notified. As you were,” and with that the Marshall glides away leaving Amara gawping at her back and Viktoriya smacks her on the shoulder.

“Dr. Gottlieb said the Marshall was in on this,” she hisses before looking at Jinhai, “And you’re a terrible liar, from now on let me do the talking.”

\---

Jake steps into Newton’s cell and the man looks up at his entrance, eyeing both Jules and Nate who step into the room beside him.

Jules says she was able to deactivate the camera in this cell and this the hall and he _really_ hopes thats true. Otherwise this whole venture is going to have to go much faster.

“What’s going on?” Newton asks, suspicious and sneering. Jake had expected as much since only Hermann’s presence seemed to make the Precursors subside.

“You’re moving,” Jake says and pulls out a set of handcuffs.

\---

Hermann messes with the settings of the practice Drift interface. There are many protocols in place to keep the cadets safe in training. He turns them all off one by one. Cranks the machine to full strength. A quick survey of the room reveals chairs stacked in a corner of the room. Hermann fumbles around dragging two of them over to the interface. He does not trust his own legs to stand firm through this ordeal.

And what an ordeal it might be.

His nightmares of the kaiju are still so vivid in his mind. A hellish cerulean landscape made up of things that wanted violence more than anything. The need to kill and tear was so strong it makes Hermann nauseous just thinking about it.

But he has to steel himself. It could be all of that and worse.

Ten years and thousand lifetimes before he stood on this same threshold _with_ Newton.

They’ve come so far since then and lost so much. Not just the pair of them, but _all_ of them.

Now he stands alone, draped in the long shadows of a dark room and hopes…

...He hopes to god this works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a minute guys. Hiiii I don't know how people have multiple WIPs at once I'm still a little caught up about Infinity War and also am now sans tonsils (But still anxious about the healing because thats what us hypochondriacs DO *finger guns*)  
> So I hope you enjoyed this, now that there is actual plot happening it takes me a little longer because action is not my strongsuit and I still only have a minor idea of how I'm going to do this next part. Anywho while I spent two weeks eating sorbet on the couch I watched all of Westworld and that's a neat show.


	14. Precipice

_Home is behind, the world ahead,_  
_With many paths to tread_  
_Through shadows to the edge of night,_  
_Until the stars are all alight._

_-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring_

 

When Jules, Jake, and Nate slide into the cadet practice room with what appears to be a loaded laundry hamper, Hermann can’t help but stare. Amara, Viktoriya, and Jinhai squeeze in behind them and as the door shuts Jules lets out a long breath.

“We’ve been arguing really loudly the whole way here, it was _exhausting.”_

Hermann is about to ask why when, in the silence, he can hear the muffled protestations coming from the laundry hamper and he blanches.

When they discussed breaking Newt out of his cell, that conversation had more or less ended at, “You handle the tech, we’ll deal with Dr. Geiszler.”

“Don’t make that face,” Jules says, pointing at him, “It worked didn’t it?”

Hesitantly Hermann steps towards the massive hamper and Nate is the one who leans down, pushing a hand through the piles of towels, dirty uniforms, and oily rags used to polish gear. After a moment, he straightens, one arm hooked through Newton’s elbow, pulling him up through the detritus. THe biologist’s hands are cuffed, his feet are bound and somebody put a gag in his mouth.

Hermann winces as he watches the Precursors glare at Nate and the others before turning to him.

“Can you please take out the gag?” Hermann asks and Jake gives him a look.

“If he starts screaming, we’re going to have to gag him again,” he says, straightforward but kind. Hermann just nods, his eyes locked onto Newton.

This is the part he’s been dreading.

Nate removes the gag and Newton grimaces at him before looking at Hermann.

“What exactly are you doing?” They ask and Hermann had a feeling it would be Them he speaks too but it still makes his stomach turn.

“The PPDC was planning on removing you from this facility and revoking my access,” he says as steadily as he can, “I would not be able to see you anymore.”

Newton’s mouth works silently, forming strange shapes. Two entities trying to work it at once. Horror and disdain warring for space on his brow.

With that, Nate lifts Newton out of the hamper and tows him to the one of the two chairs Hermann has set beneath the Pons helmets. They hang on heavy coils of wire, suspended above the ground like nooses. Nate settles Newton in the chair on the left. Beside them, Jake hands Nate another rope that was also in the hamper and they proceed to tie the already bound Newton to the chair.

Hermann has to look away while they work.

As he does, he can’t help but notice Amara and the other young cadets are watching the biologist warily, the three of them clustered together almost protectively. Amara catches him watching and smiles a little but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Jules hangs back as well, chewing the inside of her cheek thoughtfully as she watches the two men work. When they step back, Newton has been thoroughly immobilized and from the way he’s looking at Hermann, all parties must have figured out what his plan is.

He wishes he could have this conversation without an audience.

He limps over to Newton, leaning heavily on his cane. His leg aches today. Bending down to kneel on one knee is awkward and labored. With his right hand, he clutches on tightly to his cane to steady himself.

The irony of kneeling like one would for a proposal is not lost on him, but he won’t stand over Newton. Not now.

And for the moment he ignores everything that is outside of this sphere that is the pair of them. He reaches out with his free hand and rests it on Newton’s cheek.

“My plan is for the two of us to Drift,” he says softly, fingers curling to hang on tighter, his thumb resting below Newton’s left eye, “I’m hoping that will sever the Precursors hold on you.”

Newton smiles. A pained grimace melding with a sneer.

“Do you understand?” Hermann asks, searching Newton’s face for a sign. Any kind of sign.

He doesn’t need to explain how dangerous this procedure might be. Not to Newton.

He doesn’t need to say that he has no idea what he’s doing when the man before him surely knows.

That cold sneer doesn’t leave Newton’s face but his mouth is still working like two entities fight for control of it. There are tears in his eyes and sweat standing out on his forehead.

 _“...Ulysses,”_ he finally says like a strangled gasp, a ghost of his old grin passing over his face for barely an instant before it’s gone. But a word and an instant was all Hermann needed. A smile breaks over his face, “Yes _leibling,_ we still have that to look forward to,” he pats Newton on the cheek before muscling himself upright.

Once he’s standing he goes and sits in the chair on the right with a heavy thud.

Amara drifts closer in that moment.

 _“Leibling?”_ she whispers under breath.

“Darling,” Viktoriya says coming up beside her friend. At the word, Amara whips around to look at the older girl, her cheeks turning bright red. At their backs, Jinhai still eyes the door like a lookout.

“Thank you for your help,” he says to the other two cadets and Jinhai aims a remarkably sunny smile at him while Viktoriya nods, utterly serious, and utterly unfazed.

He turns to Jake, Nate, and Jules.

“I really can’t thank any of you enough.”

Jake nods, Nate stares down at his feet, and Jules shrugs, “Don’t worry about it Hermann. I’ve been waiting for a good opportunity to stick it to the man for _years.”_

The other two glance over at her, startled, but she just bumps her shoulder into Jake and shoves Nate a little.

Looking back at Hermann, she says: “Good luck in there.”

They lower the Pons helmets and Jake adjusts Newton’s first and then Hermann’s.

Without a word Amara drifts away from Hermann and her friends to stand in front of Newton.

He watches her with flickering eyes, trembling head to toe with some sort of effort, his mouth fixed shut.

Her hands are clamped behind her back so tightly he can see her knuckles turn white. She hesitates in her stance, eying him like one might eye a combustible thing.

“I hope to meet you properly after this Dr. Geiszler,” she says and Newton doesn’t move. He just stares at her, his mouth still twitching. Finally he nods in one short, sharp jerk and she nods back.

Hermann wants to say something. A prayer or still more thank you’s. But he truly has no idea what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem to encompass the way his heart has grown three sizes thanks to the people in this room. Or the way they are helping him to be whole again by helping him save Newton.

As Amara comes back to his side, biting her lower lip, and putting a hand on his arm, he says a prayer in his head for luck. Not just for him but for all of them.

_Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheynu._

“I will see you again soon,” Hermann says to the girl, quiet enough for only her to hear.

“Promise?” she asks, and for a moment, she is just a child again.

He brings his hand to rest over hers where it presses into his forearm and shakes his head. She stares at him with something like horror or sadness.

“I’ll try,” he amends and she just nods tightly, giving his forearm one last squeeze as Jake moves over to the controls and gently says, “Get back Smallie.”

She does, with her friends crowding close.

He won’t say that she will have friends still if he dies. He just tries on a smile for size and she smiles back.

Then he turns to look at Jake, his hand hovering over the switch.

“Ready?” he asks and Hermann nods.

“If they break in here, tell them that unhooking us in the middle of the Drift would be fatal,” he says, hoping that such a fact would actually make any PPDC soldiers subside. Jake nods, expression serious and set.

And Hermann looks at Newton, who still appears to be fighting with himself. His eyes flickering back and forth.

_Focus. One, two, three, four, five._

“I will see you very soon,” he tells Newton.

_One, two, three, four, five. Breathe._

And then Jake flicks the switch and the world twists and warps like water going down a drain. The last thing he sees is Newton, caught between a snarl and something else when the dark sets in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry again for the delays, tonsils are better(basically) but now we're in the busiest part of summer for me *sigh. Also sorry this is short but yeah.  
> Some notes, the Shema prayer is kind of a biggie in Judaism. Some say it's the most important prayer and your supposed to say it in the morning and before bed, etc. So I don't think it's a stretch to say it for luck. I do sometimes idk.  
> Also its time for the driiiiiift ooooooh


	15. Falling

_Go ask Alice, I think she'll know_  
_When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead_  
_And the white knight is talking backwards_  
_And the red queen's off with her head_  
_Remember what the dormouse said_  
_Feed your head_

_White Rabbit, Jefferson Airplane_

 

It feels like falling, like sinking into the depths of an ocean.

Hermann gets the briefest sensation of being sucked into a dark void and then suddenly…

…

Hermann opens his eyes.

He’s in his childhood bedroom. His school uniform is neatly folded and sitting on his dresser. Mother must have done laundry this morning…

He gets up out of bed and downstairs he can hear his father talking angrily about something. His tone tight and severe.

Hermann doesn’t want to go to school, the children treat him horribly and he spends half of his free periods hiding under a desk, his legs hugged to his chest, his head buried against his knees.

He goes towards the dresser, picking up the uniform, feeling it’s thick cotton material against his fingertips. He looks out the window and there is something strange at the corner of his eye. Something blue, almost like a spider’s web but thicker, spread across the baseboard by his closet. His eyes skitter over it almost instinctively, but that blue...

He’s not supposed to be here, he thinks to himself, his grip on the uniform tightening.

He doesn’t want to look but he forces himself to turn and look down at that strange patch of blue. 

_ This isn’t where he’s supposed to be. _

He squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates. There’s something important and he’s forgotten it. Like a thought that just drifted from his grasp.

He opens his eyes.

He’s sitting at his desk, composing an email to a Doctor Geiszler…

\---

The moment Jake flicked the switched, both Hermann and Newt went still and slack. It looks like sleep but Amara knows it isn’t.

“What do we do now?” she asks and Jake looks at her with a worry that matches her own.

“We wait.”

He goes and pulls up another chair from the stack of them sitting against the wall and drags it over to the controls. Nate and Jules follow suit, but Amara just stays where she is beside Hermann.

She doesn’t know how to explain the deep, unabiding terror eating a hole through her belly.

It’s a terror that feels like watching her friend’s jaeger go get torn apart, or watching her family get ripped away from her on a crowded dock.

She doesn’t know how to explain that she’s waiting for someone to come banging the door down to tear this fragile attempt at a rescue apart. Her hands have begun a fresh tremor that she can’t quite hide by burying them in her pockets.

She stares down at her feet and tries not to visibly panic when someone pulls at her hand and her mind goes blank. Viktoriya reaches down and grabs Amara’s hand from her pocket and tugs her a few steps from Hermann’s chair.

Distantly she notes that Jinhai has gone to stand by the door and he’s shooting them a look that she could only term fond chagrin.

“Be calm,” Viktoriya says, severe and commanding except for the way she’s holding Amara’s hand gently between both of her own, “He will be alright.”

“You don’t know that,” Amara says, her voice like strained gravel. Now she’s stressed about more than just Hermann, she’s trying not to short circuit at the feel of Viktoriya’s hands over her own.

“I know he has survived much and worrying about him now will do nobody any good,” Viktoriya says and it still sounds harsh, but she gives Amara’s hand a squeeze and Amara tries not to disintegrate.

“Um...Thank you?” she murmurs and Viktoriya nods, dropping her hand like it scalded.

“Come,” Viktoriya says nodding to where Jinhai is standing, “We can stand watch.”

Amara nods, her mouth still bone dry as she follows.

The fact is, she’s not sure what they are going to do when PPDC security starts trying to break this door down, and eventually they will. But there’s nothing else for them to do so Amara goes and stands with her friends by the door. She catches Jake’s eye as she presses her back to the wall. Jules is murmuring something quiet to him and Nate as Jinhai tries to strike up a conversation to her left.

There’s a lot passing in that look. She drifted with Jake, she gets him pretty well. She knows where his fears hide.

She knows he’s not sitting shoulder to shoulder Nate just for the fun of it. There’s a comfort in closeness and contact. 

Her hand feels bereft now that it’s empty. She jams it back into her pocket.

She looks back at Viktoriya who is listening to Jinhai with complete and rapt attention. 

She looks at Hermann, in his seat in the middle of the room, and considers when she first met him properly weeks ago in the mess hall. When he looked drawn and sad and still had faded bruises around his throat.

They’ve come a long way in a short span of time. 

She hopes it will be worth it in the end.

\---

_ Newton,  _ Hermann thinks with startling clarity as he sits in a lecture hall at Technische Universität in Berlin scrawling notes in his notebook as a teacher discuss interdimensional physics.

He’s writing about accretion when suddenly he thinks about Newton.

He’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be doing something.

And for some reason he can’t look up at the front of the room where there’s a there’s a splatter of blue on the board that hurts his eyes.

When he gets up from his desk, it’s with the distinct knowledge that on this day so many years ago, he definitely did not get up from his seat and go to the door.

He does anyway, marching down the aisle and towards the classroom exit, wrenching the door opening and…

...

\---

Liwen Shao sits at her desk, her hands folded.

Captain Ashley Stubbs, the head of PPDC security stands across from her, his hands behind his back.

“Marshall Shao is there any reason the cadet’s training room is currently shut down?”

“I was informed that repairs were being done,” she says smoothly. For this sort of mishap she might get called incompetent but as long as she’s not viewed as complicit…

“I see no reason to worry about a locked room,” she adds, careful, calm, composed.

“It’s not standard procedure,” Stubbs repeats adamantly.

“Give them a few hours and then report back. I see no reason to worry just yet,” she says.

“Ma’am that’s not all.”

She raises her brows as if to say,  _ ‘Enlighten me.’ _

“Dr. Geiszler has gone missing from his cell.”

She blinks, her features remain unmoved.

“Are you suggesting that Dr. Geiszler may have escaped and than locked himself in the cadets training room?” She asks, her tone mild.

“No, I just--” 

“Find him,” she says, flat and uncompromising.

“But ma’am what about--”

“That will be all Captain.”

With that he turns and leaves the room. As soon as the door shuts she sits back in her chair and shuts her eyes.

She hopes that Dr. Gottlieb and the others will do what needs to be done and do it fast.

\--- 

...

...Hermann enters the K-science lab to find it seeming almost cavernous and empty.

There are his boards covered in equations and there is the other side of the lab covered in viscera and filled with various preserved specimens of Kaiju biology.

The room feels too quiet, too empty.

Suddenly a voice chimes in from behind him.

“Hey Hermann.”

And there is Newton with his lopsided grin, his necktie that seems permanently askew and an all too casual posture leaning against the doorframe.

His eyes are flickering and Hermann…

Hermann is furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh what could that mean? I mean I know but whatever. Sorry sorry for the delay I just moved house and I'm still working a 9 to 5 plus a freelance for the summer so like...yeah...Still kind of fumbling around for how this next part is going to go although if you read my other PacRim fic I've definitely ripped off a few elements for the drift.


	16. The Plot Thickens

_How deeply are you sleeping or are you still awake?_   
_A good friend told me you’ve been staying out so late_   
_Be careful, oh, my darling, oh, be careful what it takes  
From what I’ve seen so far, the good ones always seem to break_

_-Sky Full of Song, Florence + The Machine_

 

Hermann glares at Newton Geiszler in the K-Science lab, his eyes narrowly avoiding all of that blue in the room. It’s in jars and splattered across Newton’s workstation and stabbing at the edges of his vision.

“Newton, I told you to keep your mess on your side of the lab,” Hermann says, kicking at a pile of guts that crossed the line they drew across the lab.

“Whatever dude, it’s no big deal,” Newton says and Hermann can feel himself boiling.

“It _is_ a big deal because if I were to trip and make direct contact with any of your specimens without the proper protection…” he trails off, pointing his cane at a patch of blue on the ground and for a moment, when he’s looking at it, it feels like his world tips sideways.

“Sorry Hermann,” Newt says, still grinning and unapologetic and now Hermann looks at him, off balance and on edge. The other man’s smile has more teeth than he remembers.

And then he remembers.

“Newton didn’t say that,” he says, white knuckling his cane.

“Hermann are you okay?” Newton asks, still smiling, strange and alien.

 _“Newton didn’t say that,”_ Hermann says through his teeth, “I yelled at him for his mess and he yelled back that I was being stupid.”

The other man’s smile slips, but only just.

“Sorry, it’s hard to keep it all straight,” he says and his voice sounds different and there’s that blue creeping closer from the corner of his eye.

“Where is he?” Hermann asks, because he came here for Newton, even if he isn’t quite sure where here is.

They glare at Hermann through his eyes.

_They._

They blow air out of the side of their mouth and then wave a hand in the air and everything around Hermann seems to slip until…

…

\---

There’s a soft knock at the door, one that startles Viktoriya enough that she has to force herself still so she doesn’t physically jump at the sound. Beside her, Amara just jumps, straightening so fast she almost hops and then bending lower as if someone might be able to see them through a solid steel door.

On her other side Jinhai looks equally panicked but the Lambert, Pentecost, and Officer Reyes just look up with something like curiosity.

She tries not to let her own nervousness show.

She meant it when she said she was willing to lay it all on the line for Amara and her new friend Dr. Gottlieb.

She truly meant it.

But being a jaeger pilot has also been her life’s ambition and not one she’s ready to give up on.

If it comes down to it, she will though.

If she has to choose between Amara and being a jaeger pilot it seems her choice was made the moment they Drifted.

But now there’s a knock at the door and she’s not ready to lose it all just yet. Neither is Jinhai or Amara, she can _feel_ it.

“PPDC wouldn’t be knocking,” Jake says, slowly getting to his feet. The other two officers look up at him and then over at the three of them by the door.

“Open it,” he says and Viktoriya wants to ask if he’s sure. If he’s _absolutely certain._

Amara just nods and pulls the door open a crack to peer through.

And Marshall Liwen Shao slides in through the open door looking calm and immaculate as ever.

She glances around the room at all of them with brows raised in mild interest.

Her gaze seems to linger on Officer Reyes, a hint of color in her cheeks before she turns her attention to Pentecost.

“Security has noticed that the room is shut down, I informed them that repairs were being done but they know Dr. Geiszler is missing.”

At that moment all eyes seem to turn to the two men, still hooked up to the Drift apparatus.

“How long has it been?” she asks softly.

“Maybe an hour,” Jake says and she nods.

“I’ve bought you possibly another hour but they are going to try and get in here eventually,” she says.

“I know,” Pentecost replies.

“It would be best to surrender right away, if you put up a fight it will be worse…” Again her eyes flick to Officer Reyes and then the two unconscious scientists, “Just make sure they do not unhook them from the apparatus before they are conscious.”

“I know,” Pentecost says and she nods, any hint of feeling slipping off her face with a businesslike nod.

She slips out of the room moments later leaving them to their potentially damaging fates they stepped into willingly.

Viktoriya looks again at Amara, small and determined beside her.

She thinks that even if it all goes to shit it will have been worth it for her.

She hopes it doesn’t go to shit though.

\---

There’s a moment when Hermann can feel the room shift and then…

There were several years when Hermann let Passover pass with little fanfare. He would eat some Matzah alone in his room and that would be that. Then there was the year that all the math added up to their demise and Hermann was feeling a little lonely and like his life might be ending soon.

That’s how Hermann ended up inviting Newton to a seder.

A poor imitation of the solemn affairs his father and mother used to put on. The food is largely what he was able to cook on a hotplate in his room. (The mess hall is fine, but they would not understand the concept of Kosher for Passover, half his ingredients had to be specially ordered and for the rest he had to throw up his hands and say it was good enough).

This is how Newton ends up in his small living quarters, the pair of them hunched around a tray table as Hermann does his best to stumble through the Maghid portion of the seder. Newton likes the songs and gets increasingly enthusiastic as they muddle through the traditional four cups of wine. At the end of the night they are both a little off balance from drink and lack of sleep.

“I’ll have to do this again tomorrow,” Hermann sighs, staring down at the mess they made of his tray table and the neighboring kitchenette.

“You’re doing this again?” Newton asks with wide eyes that are almost bruised from lack of sleep. The pair of them have been pulling a lot of all-nighters in the lab lately.

Hermann shrugs in response.

“Traditionally, you are supposed to have a seder for the first two nights of Passover,” he says toying with the handle of his kiddush cup which is really a mug and not a proper kiddush cup at all.

“And these are supposed to be big gatherings?” Newton asks.

“Traditionally they are supposed to be rather large affairs,” Hermann says nodding and then Newton nods back.

“Can I invite some people?” he asks and Hermann stares.

Who would he invite? Who would want to come?

Maybe it’s the drink or the lack of sleep but Hermann says yes.

At the same time he can see some blue in the corner of his eye that feels like a migraine to notice.

He has a strange moment of cognitive dissonance as he remembers that this would lead to a second night with Mako Mori, a bemused Stacker Pentecost, the Wei Triplets, and the Kaidonovskys all crammed into his small quarters while Hermann led the most raucous seder of his life. Most of them _definitely_ drank more than four cups of wine that night.

But he realizes this is a memory and that night was a long time ago and there’s blue and a strange edge to Newton’s smile and the moment he thinks that…

Everything changes again...

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some very niche references in this chapter didn't I? Real quick, a kiddush cup is a special cup you use to make prayers on wine, usually at the beginning of a meal but during a Passover seder your supposed to drink four cups of wine (The seder takes a long time so they are pretty spread out). Maghid is a very dense portion of the seder where we read about all of what happened to the Jews in Egypt and when they left (And a bunch of rabbis bicker about how many plagues there actually were it's a lot). And yeah its kind of like Jewish thanksgiving its supposed to be a big dinner with lots of people. I love Hermann being Jewish and will make 1 million references to it mwahahaha
> 
> Other than that...I did write a bit of the fic ending so...I have a better idea of where I'm going yay
> 
> Also I did move, I'm just getting used to the new place still...one room at a time...I'm still not quite comfy writing in my office yet (I have an office what a grownup I am)


	17. Going Deeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is real short, my apologies.

_You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine._

_– Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore_

Mako watches the scene...

Her brother standing strong and firm for his friends.

The two doctors locked in stasis and a fight with monsters rages just below the surface.

She watches it all knowing she deserved better and so do they.

She can’t do anything but watch.

So she leans in close as it all begins to play out.

\---

Everything around Hermann keeps changing.

Faster than his mind can track or make sense of.

The moment he understands a hint of where or when he is, everything melts and twists around him into somewhere or something else.

He doesn’t fully understand what’s happening but whenever he grabs onto awareness with both hands he knows two things.

  1. There’s something wrong with that blue he keeps seeing, seeping closer and closer to him everytime he spots it… And it’s something important.
  2. He still needs to find Newton.



\---

There’s a pounding on the door.

No polite knocks, but somebody slamming their fists against a steel door.

_ “Open this door,”  _ comes a commanding voice from the other side.

Amara can’t help but flinch at the sound of them.

She looks over at Jake, to see him standing up slowly, his face set.

“Put your hands in the air,” he murmurs to Jules and Nate. They are looking up at him too.

Two different portraits of unease.

“You three, step back,” he tells Amara, Viktoriya and Jinhai, “They’re going to blow that door in a minute.”

And the panic sets in.   
What if some shrapnel destroys the Drift apparatus?

What if the guards come in firing?

What if…

A hand slowly, almost carefully, slips into her own.

She looks up to see Viktoriya watching her with steady, knowing eyes.

Amara wonders if after everything, Viktoriya might be able to see straight through her, right to the core of her being.

She wonders if Viktoriya knows about the crush that’s been driving Amara mad for weeks.

Viktoriya doesn’t say a word, she simply tugs Amara back from the door and  _ does not let go of her hand. _

Jinhai follows the pair of them quietly, hands buried in his pockets, probably to hide a tremor. 

And Viktoriya keeps holding her hand.

They reach the far wall with Amara trailing behind Vik like she’s lost at sea and Viktoriya is a liferaft. And Vik maneuvers her to where her back is against the wall and then subtly positions herself in front in what looks almost like a protective stance.

And she’s still holding Amara’s hand tight.

Amara wants to object, to push Viktoriya back and protect  _ her,  _ or demand to know what this whole thing is about, or scream at the oncoming soldiers until her vocal chords snap. Instead she just stands there paralyzed. 

Does Vik know? Does she know how scared Amara is right now? Something in the look she shoots back at Amara makes her think the girl does. Something in the way she squeezes Amara’s hand makes her think the girl knows the whole sorry thing.

From over Amara’s shoulder she can see Jake move to stand in front of the two scientists.

A human barrier.

Amara wants to throw herself in front of all of them, the fear of losing anyone in this room is too much for her to take.

She looks at Hermann, his head lolling forward on his shoulders. Some of the hard edges of his face smoothed by sleep.

_ Hurry up Hermann,  _ she thinks as the door explodes off its hinges.

\---

It almost feels like seeing through a veil

The world around him keeps changing but beneath it, making holes in the reality there is always the most painful blue, growing and growing. He gets the feeling that all its something malignant, something trying to reach for him and even now as everything changes faster than he can track.

And the blue slowly rises like a tide around him and it feels like somebody Trepanning his skull everytime he looks at it.

But when he looks, he remembers.

The world he’s in keeps changing but it feels like he’s just floating.

Floating in an ocean.

If he concentrates on that alone he thinks he can swim down and away from these illusions being projected at him.

This is so much more than ‘chasing the rabbit.’ This is being forced down the rabbit hole and he gets the sense that he will have to go even deeper to find Newton.

The real Newton and not this facsimile wearing his skin that keeps appearing to Hermann in various iterations.

And with that he pushes off the surface that might have been the ground or sky and goes diving into the depths of the sea.

\---

Liwen Shao sits at her desk when the phone rings.

“Ma’am we have apprehended the individuals who appear to have kidnapped Dr. Geiszler. They locked themselves in the cadet training room.”

Liwen sits up in her seat,  “Understood, please hold position, I will be down momentarily.”

“Yes ma’am.”


	18. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't really been beta'ed sorry. When I have time I will go back and fix any errors

_I would recognize him by touch alone, by smell, I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world._

_-Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles_

 

Hermann did not know how long he had been pushing downwards. That blue encroaching further and further on his field of vision. Still, he persisted onwards and down. Swimming into the depths of an alien ocean.

He could not, _would not,_ stop now.

\---

The door bursts inward, flying off it’s with the force of the explosive they placed on it. Jake does not waver from his spot in front of the two scientists, but he puts his hands in the air as soldiers floods the room with gun’s raised. On his left, Nate raise his hands and beside him Jules sighs like she’s been extremely put upon before she too, raises her hands in clear surrender.

From the corner of his eye he sees Viktoriya standing protectively in front of Amara and Jinhai. They all look terrified but thank god they listened to Liwen’s advice and three sets of hands shoot in the air before they’e blocked from Jake’s view by smoke and soldiers surrounding them.

One soldier approaches Jake directly, his gun aimed at Jake’s chest. Or perhaps at the unconscious men behind him.

“Step aside,” the man says and he can hear Nate’s sharp inhale beside him. Jake doesn’t move or breathe. He’s calm like he would be inside of a Jaeger.

The sort of battle calm that descends out of necessity.

“We are surrendering peacefully,” he says.

“A little late for that,” the soldier replies, “Step aside.”

“If you unhook either of them from the apparatus you’ll kill them,” Jake replies, still not moving, “You’ll be losing the PPDC’s best scientist, Dr. Hermann Gottlieb and their latest test subject, Newton Geiszler.”

_“Step aside.”_

He stares the soldier down feeling nothing but cold, calm certainty when a voice nearly startles him out of his skin

“You know who that is don’t you?” Amara asks, stumbling around Viktoriya, her hands still in the air. Guns whip around to train on her and he can see Viktoriya’s eyes pop at the sight. (He can relate)

“Amara, stay back,” he says, his own calm faltering, but she ignores him and addresses the soldiers around him

“This is the guy who killed the Mega-Kaiju,” she says, continuing to move towards him, “You know the one whose face has been all over the news for months?”

She moves to stand next to him, “How do you think it would look if you guys shot the heroes of Mt. Fuji?”

She stands so close he can feel her shaking, but her tactic is a good one. Jake watches the soldier’s eyes flick between her face and his.

Then without a word, Nate steps forward to stand on his other side, shoulder to shoulder. After a moment Jules joins them with another heavy sigh.

Jake looks back at the soldier in front of him, the muzzle of his gun still pressed against his chest.

A moment passes in tense silence and then Viktoriya and Jinhai race over to stand next to Amara.

And Jake lowers his arms to fold them over his chest, just below the muzzle of the gun pointed at him.

One soldier by the door speaks into a walkie-talkie, “Ma’am we have apprehended the individuals who appear to have kidnapped Dr. Geiszler.”

And somehow it feels like they won.

A temporary victory at least.

\---

It’s beginning to feel less like swimming through water and more like swimming through something thick and viscous. Something that wants to fill his lungs and nose and choke him. Something that fights him as he continues to dive downward, each movement taking more and more effort.

He’s tired but he keeps on moving.

\---

Liwen Shao enters the cadet training room to find the six of them standing defiantly together like a human blockade.

Her exhale at the sight of them all alive is tinted with relief.

Then as all occupants in the room turn to face her, she schools her expression back to calm and aloof. Raising one brow at Pentecost and the rest of them she asks, “What exactly is the meaning of all this?”

Only the young ones look confused, Lambert and Pentecost barely even blink while Officer Reyes watches her with an inscrutable look.

(She fights the urge to meet the woman's gaze for too long)

“It appears that Dr. Gottlieb is Drifting with Newton Geiszler,” Captain Stubbs tells her, he’s the only one in the room who doesn’t have a gun pointed at the renegade group in the middle.

“Pentecost says if we unhook them now it will kill them, what are your orders ma’am?”

Liwen shoots him a lofty glance before stepping delicately through the crowd of soldiers. She moves around the six of them to bend down and examine the Drift apparatus. It’s all for show but she does note the somewhat dangerous settings on the control panel.

Briefly she glances at the unconscious scientists. They look the same as they did an hour ago.

Who can say if any progress has been made from within.

“It would seem Pentecost is right,” she says to Stubbs and the rest of them, stepping carefully over wires to stand between the soldiers and Pentecost. With one finger she nudges a gun away from the man’s chest.

“And If we kill Jake Pentecost that would be _very_ bad press,” she murmurs, before raising her voice to be heard by everyone, “Handcuff them and hold positions for now, I need to report this to the PPDC.”

That gets a flash of worried eyes from Jake which she ignores.

Amara looks poised to object but she can see Cadet Malikova elbow her before a word escapes.

She turns her back on the soldiers and faces Jake directly.

This close she knows it will be hard for the room to see her face.

“I hope you’re happy with the choices you’ve made,” she says and keeps her voice steely and cold.

Jake lifts his chin with the barest hint of a frown, “I am. Are you?”

She takes a step closer to stare him down.

“I am.”

And because she’s positive no one will see…

She winks.

And then she steps back.

“Report to me if there are any changes,” she snaps at Stubbs before leaving them all in her wake.

She will have to call the PPDC, knowing the hell they might wreak.

She doesn’t have to call them right _now._

\---

Hermann has no idea how long he’s been digging down through the muck and mud.

He doesn’t remember what light looks like anymore. He just knows he has to keep going.

When his hand finally breaks through to freezing cold air, it’s almost a relief.

He digs his way free like a corpse freeing itself from a grave.

As soon as it feels like he’s gotten his feet on the ground, he falls.

He realizes he hasn’t reached the surface.

He’s reached the bottom of the sea.

And Newton is here.

And so are They.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um....so I wrote a version of what comes next a few weeks ago. I will need to revise it and life is still busy but I'm trying to just Finish this fella instead of straddling two WIPs at once.
> 
> Also the drift is weird...


	19. Found

_This evening we could see thousands of fast falling stars_  
_That sort of thing happens just once in a lifetime like ours_  
_I’m hopelessly nearsighted_  
_Not much for star gazing_  
_But couldn’t let all of those meteors pass_  
_This was our first_  
_This was our only_  
_This was our very last chance_

_-Dessa, Momento Mori_

 

Hermann stares at the nightmarish sight before him.

There They are.

All writhing and scales and claws and sharp teeth. Behind them is Newton, trapped underneath all that azure muck like a spider caught in a web. His head lolls forward on his neck like he’s too weak to lift it and Hermann can see that burning blue veining across his forehead, into his ears and mouth and nose.

“Give him back,” Hermann says, and he doesn’t have his cane to grip anymore, so his hands are balled into fists at his sides.

 _“He is ours now,”_ They say without mouths, in many voices. The words alone nearly bring him to his knees. They nearly split his head in two.

Somehow he plants his feet and stands as firm and tall as he can, lifting his chin to look up at them even as that hurts too.

He can feel their pull now.

The blue surrounding them seems to curl towards Hermann, almost hypnotically. He ignores it as much as he can and looks back at Them, even as that feels like needles pricking into his eyes and his skull.

“No,” he says, “He is _mine_ and I’m taking him back,” Hermann says and They shriek piercing rage at him that nearly sends him throws him to the ground. To all the blue threatening to take him.

He could stand here forever trying to argue with them.

But there can be no reasoning with monsters.

It feels almost like a trick to stand here and try. Eventually they would wear him down, eroding him into yet another vessel for Their use.

No, he has no plans to let that happen.

So he takes a step forward and it feels like walking through fire or acid. Their figures are murky and they grab at him as he tries to push past. Their touch searing him to the bone.

He wonders if there will be scars in their shape of their claws.

That blue slime rises up around his legs to try and slow him down, sinking into his skin, into his bloodstream.

Still, he can’t stop.

 _“You would do that for me?”_ Newton said one day and a thousand years ago. They took a man who was sure and determined and twisted him into something else. Something broken and horrible.

They did this. _They did this._

And Hermann is going to fix it, even if it kills him.

And it might.

\---

They are lined up against the far wall with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Amara sits with Jake on her left and Viktoriya on her right. Two guards stand over them, but at least the guns are holstered.

That’s some small relief, Amara supposes.

(She wasn’t even really thinking when she ran over to Jake and that soldier she just did it and somehow didn’t get either of them shot)

(When Viktoriya ran up to stand beside her, she took Amara’s hand again and held it so tight Amara thought her fingers might break)

(And what does that _mean?)_

Now she sits, glancing at her compatriots who all look varying degrees of resigned. Nate and Jules seem to be handling the situation calmly enough while Jake thoughtfully eyes the soldiers standing over them.

On her right Jinhai sits with his head down, biting his lower lip.

And Viktoriya stares out at all the soldiers with a hard look in her eyes.

Viktoriya who threw her entire life into getting into the Jaeger program and was willing to throw it all away for _Amara._

And maybe Vik can sense her train of thought because she looks at Amara and says, “Stop worrying.”

As if a simple command can stop the ceaseless train that is her thoughts and anxieties while all their lives and futures hang in the balance.

And then Viktoriya leans in, pressing her shoulder to Amara’s and her brain goes utterly blank.

 _“Stop worrying,”_ Vik repeats in her ear.

“Stop talking,” one of the soldiers barks at her and she glares up at him before turning her piercing gaze back to Amara whose mouth is suddenly bone dry.

“Okay,” she mouths and Vik just looks away shaking her head.

Then the Drift apparatus starts beeping wild alarms and everyone in the room stares at the two scientists.

What is happening in there?

\---

It feels like being ripped apart, like being pulled under and shredded. The screaming and the Precursors grip on him is enough to send him reeling backwards with every step he takes.

For just a moment, he stumbles and the blue comes eagerly crashing over him like a tidal wave. It pushes him down with it’s weight and it does more than just burn.

He can _feel_ it pulling at him. Draining him like a sickness, suffocating air from his lungs, and underneath that...It _pulls_ at him.

In his ears he can hear Them, softer now, calling temptations as the exhaustion sets in.

Against his eyelids, he can see himself and Newton working in a lab somewhere, working in harmony.

(Working for Them.)

 _This could be yours_ they seem to say and for a moment, Hermann believes it.

It would be so easy to just stop. To give in.

To let go.

What would be so wrong with that?

_“You won’t forget to bring that Tennyson thing right?”_

_A lonely figure asks from a dark cell._

_‘You’re going to try and save him aren’t you?’_

_A young girl asks with hopeful eyes and a crowd of her peers at her back._

_“I wasn't strong enough,” Newton Geiszler whispered, his voice in pieces._

Hermann can still see the fantasy They are painting for him. Calm and blissful.

 _And a lie,_ he thinks.

Pictures of quiet and a shared life except it would be one where they are both under Their control.

That is not what he came here for.

 _Just keep moving,_ he thinks gritting his teeth and using every ounce of strength just to push himself up to his hands and knees. To put one hand in front of the other and crawl forward, dragging himself through the mud. It’s effort and he’s worn to the bone as they scream loud enough to shatter him, but he still keeps moving forward. 

_Just keep moving._

More blue bubbles up to latch onto him and hold him down and everything burns. Every point of contact is a raw nerve.

But Hermann has had a lifetime of pain to prepare him for something like this. It only slows him down, it won’t stop him.

_Just keep moving._

When he reaches Newton, he has to stand up. He's not sure he has the strength. His head is spinning, the edges of his vision getting dark and gray.

 _“Hermann?”_ a quiet voice drifts down to his ears and he remembers all those years ago when he found Newton seizing on the floor and when the seizing stopped, they just held onto each other for dear life.

He remembers the feeling of Newton’s trembling fingers pressed around his wrist.

Newton joked, after the Breach was closed, that Hermann was his knight in shining armor. That he had saved Newton, when personally, Hermann thinks they may have saved each other in the end.

Here and now, he plans for them to do it again.

He presses both hands to the ground and forces legs that are weaker than water to take his weight, slowly pushing himself to standing. On his feet, dizziness swamps him but there is Newton, watching him with tired eyes.

“Hermann,” he says, each word is an effort, “Are you really here?”

On Newton, Hermann can see the blue is almost iridescent even as it grows outward towards him, trying to wrap around him and drag him back down. The veins of it on Newton’s face seem to be growing and spreading.

“I’m here, we’re _leaving_ ,” Hermann whispers. And then because time is short and he’s not sure how much longer he can stand up to this. He's not sure how much longer he can  _stand._  

So he reaches into the mass of blue trapping Newton like a cocoon and _rips._

It burns his fingers as he tears the stuff away, more of it lashing forward in webs to try to fill the hole he just made and he reaches in for another handful and tears it away, throwing it behind him. There is a shriek that reverberates in his skull and nearly drives him back to his knees, but he hangs on to all that blue and remains upright, ripping away chunks of it even as it curls around his wrist, hooking into his skin.

 _“Hermann,”_ Newton says, still quiet and so tired.

“We are getting out of here,” Hermann says breathlessly as he rips more of the muck away and resolutely does not collapse in a heap.

Newton shakes his head.

“Where could we go Hermann?” he asks, “They’re in my head.”

And at once he can remember in triplicate the sensation of Newton’s hands on his throat, the sensation of grabbing and squeezing an airway, and the vicious alien feeling of victory as Hermann gasped for breath.

Newton stares at him like he remembers it too, his eyes wide and shadowed.

“We just need to get you out of here,” Hermann says and he can’t tear all that blue away quickly enough. Any progress he makes is erased in seconds... It grows back too fast.

“I’m not strong enough,” Newton says again, tired and broken.

And Hermann glares up at him through pain and exhaustion, the same way he’s been glaring across a crowded lab for _years,_ full of sharp, knowing irritation and affection in equal parts.

“You _are_ strong enough Newton,” Hermann says, even as all that blue still drags at him and the Precursors scream and he knows he can’t take much more of this. It’s hard enough to remain standing the room feels like it's spinning and tearing his skull apart. Every muscle in his body feels weaker than string.

Instead he grits out the words, “You are strong enough to _help me,”_ And Newton stares. There is nothing but fear written all over him.

“You should get out before they get you too,” he says and Hermann shakes his head.

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“Hermann I _can’t do it._ You have to go _now.”_ Newton says, a flush rising in his cheeks.

“I won’t,” Hermann says, soft but firm, “Not without you Newton.”

And the other man seems to almost shrink. The veins of blue around him tightening. On his skin, the lines of it grow like roots.

For a moment he doesn’t say anything at all, his eyes pulled towards the ground as Precursors roar and blue burns and Hermann _waits,_  exhausted and unsteady _._ Because he must.

“But what am I without it?” Newton asks, small and scared, “My life has been wrapped up in them for _years._ I have tattoos of them on my _body,”_ his voice grows louder with every word, _“_ Without the kaiju _what am I?”_

And Hermann sighs, staring up at the most maddening man he's ever met.

He reaches up, pressing a hand to Newton’s cheek, feeling the veins of blue burning lines on his palm.

“Without them you will still be a brilliant scientist with not a single ounce of common sense," he says gently. He's never been able to say this aloud but it seems that now he must.

"And you will still be the most important person in my life.”

Newton gapes, mouth hanging open.

“I know, it surprised me too,” Hermann adds, nervous and exhausted as Newton just keeps staring like the words knocked his brain out of his ear.

Finally he closes his mouth and nods his chin in one short jerk.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” Hermann replies.

With an agreement reached, Hermann tears into all the blue, ripping it to shreds at Newton struggles to free himself and the Precursors scream in their ears.

As soon as one of his hands is free of the muck, Newton takes Hermann’s hand.

Their fingers intertwine and suddenly it feels like pieces aligning.

Numbers falling into place to create clear trajectories.

A neural handshake.

Hermann always knew they were Drift compatible.

With his other hand, Newton scrubs at his face and hair, and bits of blue now coming off like dried plaster. Tendrils of it try to latch on to both of them but no longer find purchase.

The Precursors screams seem quieter now, less skull shattering.

Newton sighs beside him, a quiet exhale of something like relief as they stare out at the roiling sea of vicious angry blue and what’s rising up from beneath it.

“They’ll still be in my head Hermann,” he whispers as they stare up at the monsters that tower over them with claws outstretched.

“They’re in my head too, as long as you are the one in control, we can figure it out together,” Hermann says and Newton nods.

“Okay,” he says before looking back at Hermann with a crooked smile, “Let’s get out of here dude.”

“Lets,” Hermann replies and they are still holding hands as that single thought sends them rising back up through the ocean, ready to meet sky again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end btw but WHEW, I was very inspired by all those fanarts of Newt being literally pulled free from blue slime and shit. (Stuff like this art by Feriowind http://feriowind.tumblr.com/post/172612229845/hi-i-need-hermann-saving-newt-asap) Also a little bit Princess Mononoke...its all very dream logic anyway...


	20. Back In The World

_You lived_  
_two decades_  
_with nothing but your spine_  
_holding you up._  
_The way light does not care_  
_if shadows follow_

_-Never Been Kissed, Natalie Wee_

 

Members of the K-Science team have been examining the apparatus for the last twenty minutes.

The alarms stopped as abruptly as they began and the two scientists were still unconscious.

Liwen had been notified as soon as the alarms began and now she stands at a distance, arms folded, watching the scene before her.

The K-Science team is mostly a formality, they told her in more concrete terms, what she already knew. This Drift could be damaging, they couldn’t unplug the two from the scene with potentially causing even greater harm.

She keeps glancing at the six of them lined up against the wall. They're all watching her with varying degrees of fear and concern. The younger ones seem the most afraid. The two young girls lean into each other for support.

Nate and Jake look worried, presumably more for their friends, but perhaps she is acting her part too well and they are worried about her own motives. Officer Reyes just watches her with an unflinching gaze that makes Liwen look away every time she gets caught up in it.

She does _not_ have time for that right now.

The soldiers are clearly getting bored just standing around and waiting. Stances relaxed, weapons pointed towards the floor.

Maybe that’s why she is the one who notices first when the scientists begin to stir. Gottlieb first, with eyelids that flicker open slowly. Beside him, Geiszler is practically electrified into consciousness, his body going rigid and eyes flying open. He sucks in a breath of air like he's been submerged and finally broken the surface of the ocean.

She takes a step forward on pure instinct as all the soldiers, startled by the sound, jump to readiness, guns aimed at the pair of them.

Gottlieb blinks at them, exhausted and nonplussed. Beside him Geiszler shrinks in his seat, with his hands and feet bound to the chair, he can hardly do more than that.

And then the pair of them look at each other.

So much passes in a single look that the rest of them can’t begin to fathom, but then Gottlieb turns to the soldiers and slowly raises his hands in the air.

One guard opens his mouth to say or do something and Liwen puts a hand on his arm and shakes her head.

Someone will surely question her for this later, question her motives and sympathies.

But after everything they have surely earned a moment.

And she’s still trying to figure out to what degree they succeeded.

Hermann slowly staggers up from his seat, one hand braced on the arm of his chair, the other still raised in surrender.

Nobody in the room moves, or breathes.

They all watch him limp, his gait uneven without the cane. Newton sits, trembling, working his bound hands open and closed with something like wonder until Hermann reaches him. Then that look of wonder transfers to Hermann.

It's almost blinding to look at.

\---

This is how a body is supposed to feel with one mind running it.

They are still there.

Shrieking in his head enough for thirty migraines.

Newton might just be crazy for the rest of his life, but his hand moves when he wants it to. And his mouth opens and shuts when he tells it to.

It’s his again.

It’s _his._

They are both alive and he has his own body again.

Also, there are guns everywhere he looks and Liwen Shao stands behind the line of soldiers watching them with an inscrutable eye. Also, he’s tied to the chair.

It’s enough to make him curdle.

There’s a part of him that still doesn’t feel human and it wants to curl up like a beetle.

But he keeps opening and closing his hands.

Just because he can.

When he finally thinks to look again to his right, Hermann is on his feet, staring down all those soldiers like they are nothing at all. And he moves towards Newt with determined, uneven steps.

He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Hermann walk without his cane and something about that strikes a chord deep in his chest.

This man has moved mountains through sheer force of will and he’s still doing it _right now…_

And he probably doesn’t even realize it.

And Newton is just the fucked up idiot who made this entire situation happen in the first place.

He has to look away, eyes drawn to the ground, but Hermann persists until he’s standing in front of Newton.

And then he kneels.

Slowly, painfully, _gutte gott,_ he kneels.

When he’s down on one knee, he looks at Newton.

And Newton _can’t. He can’t._

Too many people, too much grief, too many voices in his head and an entire body’s worth of sensory information he’s been missing for around eight years.

A hand reaches up to grip his chin, gently yet firmly raising it, forcing Newt to look Hermann in the eye.

He owes Hermann this at least, whatever this is, he doesn’t look away.

He forgot that perfect shade of brown that makes up the iris of Hermann’s eyes, almost touched by amber. One eye is blood-shot, both are red rimmed, it just makes the amber even brighter.

He’s not sure what Hermann is looking for, what he’s seeing in Newton’s eyes.

“H-Hermann,” he manages to say his name like a gasp and barely louder than a whisper. Hermann just shakes his head a fraction of an inch, enough to send a message.

Newt clams up and then Hermann nods, mouth still tight, eyes still hard and determined.

He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt, one hand braced on Newton’s arm. When Hermann’s standing, that hand transfers to his hand. His palm is cool and slick with sweat and Newton clings to it for dear life.

He looks back to see Hermann standing beside him, back straight, and eyes cold.

Of all people, it’s the gaggle at the back of the room by the wall who pipes up.

Or more specifically the girl does.

The one who Newton remembers only through the blue haze of their control.

The one who looked him in the eye and said she hoped to meet him ‘properly.’

 _“Hermann, did you do it?”_ she all but shouts, impatient and worried.

A look back shows Hermann smiling, paper thin and tired, but smiling nonetheless.

“Yes, we did.”

“You realize that, your verbal assurance won’t be enough,” Liwen says, unmoved by all of this, “You will both need to be held under observation until you are cleared by professionals. And then the PPDC is going to have to decide what to do with you both.”

Hermann’s hand tightens around his and only then does Newton realize he’s not the only one whose shaking.

“We will submit to whatever tests or evaluations you deem necessary but after that we will be released from custody,” Hermann says. Nobody would know that may, _just maybe,_ he’s scared too.

Newton wonders for the millionth time what he did to deserve this fantastical man in his life.

Hermann is like a unicorn or something else that belongs between the pages of fiction.

How can somebody like him exist? And how can he find it in him to give a damn about Newton after all this?

In response to Hermann's statement, it almost looks like Liwen _smiles._ But that can’t be right.

“Is that right?” she asks.

“It is, if you want the two foremost experts on Kaiju biology and the Breach to remain on your payroll.”

Again, there’s that hint of a smile on her face.

“We shall see,” she says and nods to the soldiers who tear Hermann away from him, pulling the man's hands behind his back.

“Hermann?” Newton asks, unable to spit out anything more coherent as panic rises like bile in his throat.

“It’s fine Newton,” Hermann almost snaps at him, “Remain calm.”

 _“Hermann?”_ he can’t say anything else as he watches the soldiers pulling him away.

Liwen murmurs something to the soldier on Hermann’s right and then they just keep moving towards the door, uncaring about Newton’s sputters of protest.

Suddenly he has a face full of guns as somebody unties his arms from the chair and then puts cuffs on them.

“Where are you taking him?” again, it’s the girl, whose voice rises above the fray in the room and in his head. He can already see why Hermann might like her. The way she stands, feet planted, eyes steely, despite the soldiers pointing weapons at her, or the friends tugging on her arms to try and make her stop.

“You’ll all be going to holding cells until we get this mess sorted out,” Liwen says.

Four walls and nothing but the roaring between his ears. Newton pales at the thought.

Meanwhile the girl is staring right at him, her mouth a hard line.

“Don’t put him by himself,” the girl says, still refusing to sit and Liwen stares at the kid, lips pursed thoughtfully. Suddenly Liwen tilts her chin at one of the soldiers and flicks her fingers.

One of the soldiers in front of the girl grabs her by her cuffed wrists and starts towing her towards the door as Newton is yanked upright and dragged forward.

 _“Derr`mo, Amara!”_ the blonde girl beside her suddenly shouts in panic.

And Amara twists in the soldier’s arms to goggle at the girl, her mouth open like a fish.

The blonde girl struggles, but cannot escape the soldiers holding her back.

She bares her teeth at them and Newt’s pretty sure the only reason she doesn’t bite one of them is because the Chinese boy beside her lays a hand on her arm and whispers something that makes her stop.

The last he sees of all of them is four sets of worried eyes and one set that glares hard enough to burn.

Then it’s just the pair of them in the hall, being towed towards a cell by a bunch of soldiers.

And Newton has no idea where Hermann is

And his head is screaming enough to make the walls spin.

And his heart is pounding.

And then the world goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm....sorry like...there was no way this wasn't going to blow up a *bit*  
> Anyway life sucks IRL right now because anxiety is a bitch and work is hard.
> 
> (Also that poem bit is for Hermann and Newt making heart eyes at the perfect math boy)
> 
> Oh and if I got my google right, Viktoriya yelled "Shit!" in Russian.


	21. Caged

_Held on to hope like a noose, like a rope_  
_God and medicine take no mercy on him_  
_Poisoned his blood, and burned out his throat  
Enough is enough, he’s a long way from home_

_-Long Way From Home, The Lumineers_

When Newton crashes back into consciousness with a start, he nearly falls on his face. A whole body full of limbs and organs that he’s supposed to manage and now he wonders how he managed at all before. He catches himself before falling and then the feeling of metal around his wrists manages to rise above the din and grab his attention.

He’s been handcuffed.

He follows the chain links with his eyes to see where it attaches to the wall.

Then he looks back and sees the kid curled on the other side of the cell watching him and he can understand why they probably chained him to a wall.

And his head is still screaming.

“H-hey,” he says and she blinks at him, slow and nonplussed.

“Hi,” she replies.

And the silence that falls is agonizing. It gives him way too much time to listen to the voices in his head which seem to alternate between trying to tear his brain in half and murmuring seductive reassurances.

He wonders if this is what withdrawal feels like.

But the kid is still here and he feels somewhat obligated to at least _try_ and make conversation.

“So y-you’re friends with Hermann?” he asks and she nods. There’s something wary in her gaze and it takes him a minute to piece it together.

“You were one of the ones at Mt. Fuji weren’t you?”

Again, a wary nod and Newton has to look away and bite the inside of his cheek.

He wasn’t even there for most of that.

He had tried so hard to wrest control from them with Hermann, everything that followed happened when he was far, far away.

But he has a memory of his mouth smiling with too many teeth as jaegers were destroyed by the thing his hands helped create.

Right now, his hands tremor in his lap. The chains on his handcuffs rattle just enough to give him away.

And she’s still watching him, uneasy, but also like she’s waiting for something.

And he has no idea what to say.

“Hermann says that you didn’t do any of the really bad stuff,” she says slowly, eying him critically. Newton swallows hard before he manages to nod.

“Yeah, I... T-They...” he grates the words out with difficulty and he barely even made sense. Yet she just nods, brows furrowed.

“Hermann says the only part that was your fault was when you Drifted with them,” she says and Newton lets out a shaky sigh, reaching up with one hand to rub his eye which hurts like hell.

“He told me th-that too,” he mutters, not trusting his vocal chords with real volume.

And the kid just keeps watching him, her frown deepening.

“What do you think?” she asks and there is an astonishing lack of anger in the question. Just pure curiosity. The part of Newton’s brain that isn’t shrieking can appreciate that.

The rest of him wants the world to just _stop._ He wants everything to stop and quiet down so he can think clearly.

But that’s not realistic and the kid asked what he thought about stuff that was or wasn’t his fault…

“I think...I was a fucking idiot who th-thought they knew everything and thought it would be alright a-and that I would handle it and… I knew it was w-wrong and probably dangerous I just didn’t r-realize _how much_ until it was too late.”

He says it all in an unsteady rush, voice cracking by the end of it.

And Newton would really prefer to _not_ cry in front of a child.

Meanwhile the girl just nods, considering his statement.

“I had friends that died that day,” she says, flat and non-judgmental. Her gaze still pensive as she watches him and Newton tries to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“What were their names?” he asks and she finally looks away from him, her eyes moving up to the ceiling and back to the ground beneath her.

“Ilya and Suresh,” she murmurs so quietly he almost misses it.

“I’m sorry,” he says and she shoots him a crooked look.

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, “I don’t think it _was_ your fault...I _just…”_ she looks down again, her mouth in a hard line, “I just want you to know their names.”

Newton has to look away from her then, nodding his head.

“Okay.”

And a silence falls that is inexplicably calmer than before. Like they cleared the air to make space for it.

And Newton tries not to fidget or wince at how much his head hurts with every passing second.

The girl leans her head back against the wall, her eyes half lidded like she’s close to falling asleep, but her hand taps a nervous rhythm on her knee giving away the appearance of calm.

“Hey kid,” Newton begins, as a thought occurs to him, “What was all that about me not being by myself when they locked me up?” he asks. Amara reddens, turning her head away from him.

“I d-don’t mind,” Newton adds quickly, “I was j-just wondering why you bothered…”

Amara still won’t look at him as she mumbles, “I thought after all that, being alone might be scary, and Hermann would have cared about that so...”

Newton can’t help the grin that forms, small and fragile and strange-feeling on his face, “I can see why he likes y-you,” he tells her and she shoots him another look, wry and perplexed, so Newton elaborates.

“Hermann always liked good people. He’s really into being moral and honorable and all that. I think that’s why he got along so well with Mako.”

Her expression flickers with something like remorse, or something even softer. When she looks back at him again, her head cocks thoughtfully to one side.

“And what does that make you?” she asks, something near a smile forming.

“A terrible lapse in judgment,” Newton replies, dry as a desert.

\---

Viktoriya prowls her cell like a caged tiger.

“Sit down Viktoriya, this isn’t helping,” Jinhai says, slumped against one wall of their cell, watching her pace back and forth.

“Why did she have to do that?” Viktoriya demands, ignoring what he just said because she’s completely incensed.

Jinhai just stares at her.

“You know why,” he says quietly and Viktoriya stops.

She heaves a big sigh and drops to the ground beside Jinhai, “Yes I do know why but _still.”_

Jinhai looks away, shaking his head.

“I’m sure they will take reasonable precautions and we all have guards on our doors. I doubt the Marshall would actually lock Amara up with him if he were a real threat.”

Viktoriya glares at him, “You don’t know that.”

And Jinhai sighs, “I _do_ know actually, because I’m pretty sure the PPDC has basic rules about not endangering people in their custody. And you saw the way Dr. Gottlieb was with him after. I think they fixed him.”

Viktoriya folds her arms over her chest, “How do we know that the Precursors didn’t infect Dr. Gottlieb? Maybe they were both acting,” she says and Jinhai shrugs.

“We don’t know, but they are going to be evaluated before they are released and I don’t think Amara’s in danger...At least anymore than the rest of us…”

Viktoriya sighs and slumps back against the wall. For a moment she had forgotten to worry about her life’s ambitions going up in smoke. Or possibly spending the rest of her life in a cell for treason.

“Do you regret it?” she asks Jinhai and he looks at sidelong for a moment before shaking his head, “No, do you?”

She shakes her head, “No.”

The way Amara lit up like a sun when Viktoriya and Jinhai agreed to help.

How could she ever regret that?

“After all of this, I really hope the two of you get your act together,” Jinhai says out of the blue.

“And what does that mean?” Viktoriya asks in a tone that might make some people quail in their seats. Jinhai just shrugs again and says, “I mean you like each other and this little dance you’ve been doing is hard to watch.”

Viktoriya sits up straight so she can glare down at him, _“Excuse me?”_

He just blinks up at her, “You heard what I said, I might be quiet sometimes but I’m not stupid and I’m not blind.”

And she stares at him for a long moment feeling heat in her cheeks.

Finally she says, “I _might_ like her but…”

“No, you like _each other,”_ he corrects her and she glares at him again, irritated and on edge.

“How do you even know for sure?” she demands and Jinhai actually rolls his eyes at her.

“Because I Drifted with both of you. And again,” he points a finger to his face, “Quiet, not stupid.”

She leans her head back against the cement wall, feeling the rough surface of it scraping at her scalp and not caring as she closes her eyes and sighs.

“I don’t know Jinhai,” she murmurs, “I just don’t know.”

“Well can you at least promise you’ll talk to her? When this is all over?” he asks and she turns her head to look at him.

“Why do you care this much?” she asks him and he shrugs.

“Because I care about the both of you… And you and I both know nothing is forever,” he says, his gaze going long and distant, “And both of you are wasting precious time when none of us know how much we might get.”

That shuts her up for a good long minute.

She still doesn’t really believe him about Amara liking her back. But she says, “Okay I’ll talk to her.”

And Jinhai nods, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way it does when he tries to hide a smile.

\---

Hermann is placed alone in a dark cell and they don’t even bring him his cane.

He stands defiantly glaring at the guards until the door shuts.

Then he lets himself slide to the ground in a heap of exhaustion.

He’s fairly certain Marshall Shao asked the guard on his right to help him walk. She whispered something and then one hand moved from clamping on his bicep, to beneath his elbow, taking some of his weight as he was marched to this cell.

And Newton.

 _Gott im Himmel,_ Newton.

They won, he knows they did.

He saw it in the man’s eyes, which were wholly his own, without a flicker in sight.

Still, it hurt to see the fear in his eyes, to hear it in his voice as the soldier’s took Hermann away.

He had considered the possibility of a life in prison for one or both of them after this.

He had considered the possibility that he might never see Newton again.

He made his peace with that because he had to.

The alternative was to let Newton be a prisoner in his own body.

So he had held the man’s hand in that room, knowing they were about to be separated. Either for a few hours or days or for forever.

And Newton panicked, because of course he did.

His first taste of real, unadulterated consciousness and control in eight years and it was with a roomful of guns pointed at him.

He can’t blame Newton, not for that anyway.

But a part of him will be furious if that’s the last he will ever see or hear of Newton Geiszler.

His name being shouted in pain and fear.

\---

Liwen Shao stands before the Council.

There are no empty chairs today and the light that shines overhead is harsh and blinding.

“Tell us _exactly_ what happened,” commands the U.S. delegate.

Liwen straightens her back, lifting her chin and gazing up at them, calm and unmoved.

They all sit high above her but she refuses to be intimidated by this room even if that is their intent.

“Dr. Hermann Gottlieb removed Dr. Newton Geiszler from his cell with the help of Rangers Jake Pentecost and Nate Lambert, along with Officer Jules Reyes and Cadets Amara Namani, Viktoriya Malikova, and Ou-Yang Jinhai,” she says, choosing her words with care, “Then it appears that Dr. Gottlieb Drifted with Dr. Geiszler in an attempt to remove him from the influence of the Precursors.”

“And was he successful?” asked the Japanese delegate.

“It would appear so, but we are going to have them tested and evaluated by medical professionals before we come to any conclusions,” she says.

She can practically feel the rumble of discontent in the room.

“The lot of them should get locked up in cells for good,” the U.S. delegate said, one hand slamming against the surface of his desk.

“Unfortunately Pentecost and Namani are quite famous in the aftermath of Mt. Fuji. So is Lambert, Malikova, Ou-Yang and Officer Reyes. Any serious action taken against them would be the worst kind of press for the PPDC,” she says, her hands clamped tightly behind her back, “And after we’ve worked so hard to rehabilitate our image following the events of Mt. Fuji…” She lets that sentence trail off suggestively.

“Well there can still be punishments,” the Russian delegate said, still angry but compromising.

“Agreed,” Liwen says, inclining her head, “As long as it’s not permanent or life ending I will happily follow through with whatever the council recommends.”

“But Geiszler and Gottlieb,” the Chinese delegate says, “They will need to answer for their actions.”

And Liwen squares her shoulders.

This next part is going to be the hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wo boy... You know I always wanted to get to know Jinhai a little better and I like him a lot here. Also I didn't forget about Jules don't worry.
> 
> And also Gott im Himmel means god in heaven in German :)


	22. Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me sing the old song of I should proofread this more and I will Later

_Some truths are loyal_  
_As the shadows we lead  
_ _Some truths are stubborn as gravity_

 _No matter what category you fit into  
_ _Truth’s got its sight set on you_

_-South, Sleeping at Last_

 

Jake Pentecost sits in his cell, head leaned back against the harsh, dark colored walls. There are no windows in this room but he’s fairly certain it’s been more than several hours since they were put here.

Nate sits beside him. Initially he wouldn’t stop fidgeting, but nerves and exhaustion caught up with him, he sleeps with his head on Jake’s shoulder.

And Jake sits…

He’s been thinking a lot about Mako these last few days.

(To be honest he’s been thinking about her near constantly since the helicopter crash)

He doesn’t hold it against Geiszler, not really anyway. A small seed of bitterness lives somewhere in his sternum but he had wanted to help Hermann and so he did.

And maybe he agreed because it’s something Mako would have done.

She absolutely would have.

Mako always did the right thing.

Especially when he was off doing the stupidest thing possible.

But she’s not here to do the right thing anymore and it still hurts.

He’s never really believed in the afterlife, or spirits that remain behind.

But her death was so abrupt and unfair, sometimes he can’t help wondering if she’s still there somehow...with him…

“Hey Mako,” he whispers, “I did my best.”

And then he stops because he feels stupid, and then he decides he doesn’t care.

“I tried to do right by everyone like you would have...I like to think you would have been proud of me.”

There’s no response, why would there be. Nothing but a slight flicker in the overhead lights which Jake looks at with watering eyes.

“I miss you sis,” he murmurs.

Beside him, Nate shifts around, half awake.

“I bet she misses you too,” Nate mumbles laying a warm, sleepy kiss on his cheek before resting his head back on Jake’s shoulder and instantly falling back asleep.

\---

“So who w-was that girl?” Newt asks Amara out of the blue. The pair have been lapsing in and out of conversation for the last few hours.

“What girl?” Amara shoots back.

“You know…” Newt gestures vaguely with his hand towards the locked door of their cell, “The _girl,_ the one who got upset when the guards dragged you away?”

And Amara pinks, looking down at the floor, “She’s...Her name’s Viktoriya…”

Newt can’t help the grin forming. He was always a meddling little shit, multiple members of the old K-Science crew could attest to him sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. While he has no intention of trying to set Amara up on an accidental date with the girl she’s smitten with, he can’t help but poke at this a little bit...It’s providing him an excellent distraction from the unceasing shriek in his head and an exhausting sense of overstimulation.

“Viktoriya...N-nice. And who is she to you exactly?”

Amara shoots him a look that’s almost irritated, “We piloted one of the jaegers together,” she says, “It was Jinhai, her, and me and we’re just _friends_ Newt.”

She folds her arms over her chest and looks away from him then and he can see he’s touched a raw nerve.

Of course the very real threat of life and death might make a teenage infatuation more fraught than it ought to be.  
“Sorry,” he says hoping she will be able to tell that he means it, “She just seemed really worried.”

She looks at him again, sidelong with furrowed brows.

“I know,” she sighs, leaning forward to scrub a hand through her hair, “She’s really confusing.”

And Newt really doesn’t know what to say. Mostly because he can relate to the feeling of being eternally confused by the people he cares about.

“Sorry,” he says again, for lack of anything better to say and she shrugs.

“Why?” she asks and as Newton opens his mouth to reply, the door to the cell opens and Liwen Shao comes in looking as immaculate as ever.

 _Marshall_ Liwen Shao.

She nods to the guard at the door and asks, “Would you take Cadet Namani outside for a few minutes?”

 _Oh shit,_ Newton thinks, locking eyes with Amara in a moment of mutual panic.

The guard walks into their cell, stopping in front of her expectantly. Amara gets to her feet slowly, her gaze bouncing between Newton, Liwen, and the guard.

Once she’s on her feet, she’s marched silently out of the room.

Another guard steps in and deposits a plastic chair in front of Newt and then leaves.

When the door shuts, Liwen settles into that chair with a calm, level look aimed at him.

“Hello Dr. Geiszler,” she says.

“H-hello,” Newton replies, watching her closely.

“How are you doing?” she asks, polite and placid as still water.

“Fine?” Newton replies, dragging the word out as he looks at her quizzically.

“I just wanted to talk to you alone for a few minutes, there’s no reason for any immediate concern,” she says and really that doesn’t clear up much. If anything Newt is only more confused now.

“Okay,” he says, still edged and uncertain. She leans forward to delicately rest her chin in one hand, fixing him with a keen eyed stare.

“Wh-what is it that you want to…” Newton trails off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“I do believe Dr. Gottlieb when he says he succeeded in freeing you from the influence of the Precursors,” she says in an abrupt, not quite non-sequitur, “Of course, you both will still need to be evaluated, but in this particular instance I do trust his judgement.”

“Cool,” Newt says slowly, brows raised with unspoken questions.

“Of course there is the possibility that his mind has been infected by the Precursors in the Drift…” she muses aloud and Newt sits up straight, the chains that hook into the wall go taut. pulling at his wrists.

 _“No,_ that is _not_ a possibility,” he says, his voice made of harsh cracks. She stares at him, one eyebrow quirking.

“How is that not a possibility, you two were mentally connected for hours and it appears that, that is all it took for them to get to you,” she says and her tone is blank and utterly neutral.

“B-because…it’s _Hermann,”_ Newton replies, frustrated and inarticulate. His bound hands gesturing in his lap.

Both of her eyebrows lift high on her forehead and her mouth twitches, almost like she’s amused.

“My point is,” she says with emphasis, “That if Dr. Gottlieb is to be believed, you are free of the Precursor’s influence which means this is technically our first real meeting.”

And that shuts Newt right up.

Because by the time he left for a job at Shao industries, he was gone.

He can remember how much the Precursors hated her for nearly eight years. Because she was exacting and smart and could have seen through their facade if they made a bad move.

He remembers wishing she would look closer and see.

And then throw him in a cell before they hurt anyone.

Now Liwen leans back in her seat, still eying him thoughtfully.

Newt swallows hard before speaking, “Aren’t you angry with me?” he asks softly, “I ruined your life’s work.”

She tilts her head fractionally, “Really? Because if I’m understanding right _you_ did nothing at all to my company, the Precursors did,” she says sounding nothing more than mildly curious.

“But they did it wearing _my face,”_ Newt exclaims trying to fight down the urge to scream at all these people who _aren’t_ angry at him and he doesn’t understand _why._

“They did,” she agrees.

“And you’re the Marshall of the Hong Kong Shatterdome now,” he says, pointing at her with an unsteady hand.

“I am,” she agrees.

“And the PPDC wanted to leave me like that because they were hoping to squeeze out more intel about the Precursors,” he continues.

“Yes,” she nods.

“So I wrecked your company, got the monsters with valuable intel out of my head, and now you want to say _hi?”_ he demands, voice cracking on itself. His head is still screaming and every nerve ending overloads his senses with newfound data he used to be able to ignore.

Liwen Shao just blinks and says, “Yes.”

“Yes,” he repeats, all uncertain edges.

She nods, “I was curious to see what sort of person might make a man like Dr. Gottlieb throw all cautions to the wind.”

Newton has to look away at that, biting his lip.

“And?” He asks, his voice barely audible, “Where does that leave us now?”

Her expression just barely shifts into something else, something concerned yet rueful.

“The council is currently deliberating on what to do with all of you,” she says and her mouth twisting at the corners, “I am not party to that discussion.”

And Newt nods, “Oh...O-okay.”

“I am not allowed to say more,” she continues, “But I will say what happened to you in the aftermath of Mt. Fuji was not my decision.”

Newt just nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Because it _feels_ like she might be apologizing to him and he can’t process that right now.

She looks at him like she knows, like she _knows._

Worse still, like she understands.

“On that note, I should be going,” she says abruptly standing up from her chair, “I suspect Cadet Namani is very concerned for your welfare at the moment.”

There’s a hint of amusement in there which he can’t quite parse. He’s still not over the part where people might be worried about him. Where they aren’t universally furious with him when all the shrieking voices say it’s his fault in the same breath as trying to convince him to Drift again.

He’s never going to be normal again...And that’s assuming he was normal in the first place.

He should probably go to therapy.

He muses all of this with his head pounding and hands shaking while the Marshall heads towards the door.

“Hey Sh-Shao?” he asks and she stops with her hand suspended in front of the door.

“Yes Dr. Geiszler?” she asks turning back to look at him.

“I’m sorry I never got to really work for you, I bet you were a cool boss,” he says and she smiles. It’s razor thin but real enough to make the skin around her eyes wrinkle.

“I wasn't but thank you, I appreciate the sentiment.”

With that she opens the door and leaves, Amara getting ushered in behind her.

She stares at Newt with wide eyes.

“What was that about?” she demands and Newt is still staring at the door that’s just shut behind her. His next words are slow and careful.

“You know I-I’m not really sure.”  
\---

_‘The Council will hear testimony from Dr. Hermann Gottlieb.’_

That is the update Liwen Shao receives as she leaves Geiszler’s cell.

The Council hearing from Hermann himself could be a very good thing or the very worst thing. She honestly isn’t sure.

She had stated her case which was simply, if any word on their treatment of Geiszler got out it would be a PR nightmare. If Dr. Gottlieb, the scientist renowned for his assistance in not one, but two world saving maneuvers were to be sentenced to life imprisonment or worse there would be many questions asked. The exact sort of scrutiny that the PPDC should avoid at all costs.

Because the fact is, the PPDC looks like the bad guys in this and putting this matter behind them gracefully would be in their best interest.

They said they would take that into consideration, whether they actually did would be another matter entirely.

And now they want to hear from Dr. Gottlieb.

She arrives at his cell door just as he’s ushered out by one of the guards without his cane and with his hands are still cuffed behind his back.

“You really should uncuff Dr. Gottlieb and give him his cane,” she says to the guards, keeping a tight leash on her temper which has worn thin, “He’s hardly a flight risk.”

A few of them have the decency to look abashed while Hermann stands, awkward and off balance. They uncuff him and one guard hands him his cane. (She’s grateful these guards had the sense to at least take it with them.)

With that sorted Hermann looks at her and nods his appreciation. The last day or so have taken a visible toll on him. The skin around his eyes is bruised with exhaustion and his hands tremble as they grip his cane hard enough to make the knuckles go white.

“Much obliged,” he says, matching her thin veneer of calm with his own, “Now could you possibly tell me where these men are taking me?”

She falls in step beside him as the guards walk him towards the elevator. The room for video conferencing with them is on one the top floors of the facility.

(It’s less of a video conference and more of a series of holograms beamed in. They all appear like they are in the room, sitting in shadows, unless one looks closely enough to spot the telltale flicker of a hologram projector.)

“The Council wants to hear from you,” she says aloud and the looks he shoots is brief, pale, and wide-eyed. He looks away and they all round the corner to the elevator.

“Have you heard anything about how Newton is doing?” he asks quietly.

“I just spoke to him, he seems to be doing alright given the circumstances,” she says and he nods. The doors to the elevator open and they all step inside. One guard presses the button for the right floor.

“Cadet Namani is with him,” she adds as the doors close and Hermann looks at her incredulously, furrowed brows climbing high on his forehead.

“We took precautions,” she says holding up a hand to stem whatever objection he might be gearing up to say, “And she asked to go with him...Or more specifically I believe she requested that he not be incarcerated by himself and that was the simplest solution.”

Hermann shakes his head, “Oh Amara…” he murmurs.

“Indeed,” she agrees.

They step off the elevator and stop in front of the double doors that lead into the video conference room.

“Officially you will be on your own in there Dr. Gottlieb,” she says, facing the doors.

“Unofficially?” he asks quietly and she is all too aware of the soldiers behind them who can hear there every word.

For once she decides not to care.

“Good luck,” she tells him and the guards push open the doors, shunting him through while she follows behind at an appropriate distance.

\---

Hermann stumbles into the dark council room and thinks, not for the first time, that the PPDC designed this room to be intentionally unnerving. To try and add to their own stature and importance.

Lars Gottlieb used to say it was gauche.

He’s long gone and there are no familiar faces staring down at him now.

“Dr. Gottlieb, would you recount the events that led to your abduction of Newton Geiszler from PPDC custody?” Asks the American delegate.

 _Abduction,_ he thinks, _what an interesting choice of words._

“I was made aware of the fact that Dr. Geiszler was going to be removed from the Hong Kong Shatterdome and most likely subjected to a more…” he hesitates, picking his way through the thin ice of what might amount to treason in some eyes.

“A more _intensive_ form of captivity elsewhere.”

“Who ‘made you aware’ of that?” asks the American delegate and Hermann can practically hear the quotation marks. He can barely see more than hands resting on desks and he has to crane his neck just to get a glimpse of that.

As for the question, Hermann resolutely does not glance behind him where Liwen Shao might currently be standing. Instead he says, “I’m not willing to disclose that information at this time.”

“Excuse me?” Asks the German delegate, sitting in the seat his father once sat in, “This is an official hearing.”

“And I’m _officially_ declining to answer your question,” Hermann snaps at them his next words coming out fast and barely civil, “If this hearing is to determine my culpability then where I found this information doesn’t matter. These were extraordinary circumstances, you do not have a security leak.”

His last words ring out in the cavernous room.

He debates adding a ‘sir’ to the end and the decides not to. If he is already going to be insubordinate than adding polite titles won’t matter very much.

Finally the Swiss delegate leans forward in her seat, for a moment he can even see her face. She looks thoughtful.

“So after you were made _aware_ of this, what did you do?”

“I asked some friends for assistance. Since Drifting is what connected him to the Precursors I was hoping that I could break that connection by Drifting with him.”

“So you committed treason on the basis of a theory?” asks the Russian delegate, “You encouraged disloyalty in some of our best and brightest, entirely based on speculation.”

Hermann winces internally, forcing a little steel in his spine as he replies, “Some very good people chose to help me, because what was being done to Newton was not right.”

The British delegate rests his chin in one hand as he says, “And are we expected to believe that you were not in any way influenced by your emotional attachment to Dr. Geiszler?”

“Just a few months ago you stood in this room and begged us to let you see him,” adds the Chinese Delegate.

Of course he was influenced by that, Hermann thinks, glaring up at them and gripping his cane with both hands. What he says aloud is, “Perhaps I was influenced by my attachment to a man I’ve worked with for nearly 20 years, but more than that I was convinced of the need to act because of his treatment at your hands which has been nothing but cruel and inhumane.”

He can feel the change in the air that those words bring. He was going to try and be tactful but he can’t dance around this, not if he is going to tell a modicum of truth.

“Dr. Geiszler _chose_ to Drift with the Kaiju,” The American Delegate says, her words icy and unforgiving, “What followed was his responsibility.”

Hermann turns to glare venom up at her in particular before shutting his eyes and breathing deep. If he gets angry they won’t listen, that much he knows for certain.

“Yes Dr. Geiszler Drifted with a Kaiju,” he says, his eyes still shut and his head down, “He Drifted more than once, and that was incredibly stupid of him.”

There’s a murmur of something like agreement that drifts around the room at that.

“The Precursors had already begun to take a hold of him then and he should have reported this to _someone_ while he was still in control of his faculties. That much is his fault,” he says trying to keep his voice calm and unmoved when all he can think of is the day Newton explained it to him with trembling hands and flickering eyes.

“Everything that happened after that, including Mt. Fuji cannot be attributed to him, but to the Precursors who controlled him,” he pauses, his eyes narrowed and sweeping over all of them, “And then you locked him up.”

He can’t even try and hide the accusation in his words.

“What would you have had us do?” asks the Japanese delegate, “He was under control of an alien influence and a danger to the general population, _including_ yourself,” he points to Hermann who resists the urge to reach up and touch his throat. Those bruises lasted a long time, he isn’t likely to forget them soon.

“You could have tried to do something other than lock him up and torture him for information,” he says, his voice cracking, “You could have tried counseling or allowing the K-Science team to conduct tests that might have allowed us to reverse it or _something._ Instead, you chose to use him as a possible means to an end.”

“The Precursors would have valuable intel on their plans for a coming invasion. We could not possibly throw such an opportunity away,” the British Delegate says, voice booming over Hermann’s with obvious affront.

“Did you get anything actionable?” Hermann asks him in particular, teetering dangerously close to rage. His hands shake and it’s not from fear.

And the room is deadly silent.

He looks around at all of them as he asks, “Did you get any _actual_ intelligence from them in all the weeks you had Newton in your custody?” and again there is silence.

He smirks up at them without mirth.

“That is what I thought,” he says taking a step forward, his cane tapping on a hard granite floor.

“Get off your soapbox Dr. Gottlieb,” the German delegate says and again he stares daggers at the stranger sitting in the position his father used to hold.

Lars Gottlieb was not a kind man, he would not have approved of such an emotional display and yet…

He was not unnecessarily cruel.

He would have agreed with Hermann if he were here.

The new German delegate is still talking, “The fate of the Earth is at stake here, we have not had the time to be precious when there are billions of lives are at risk.”

“You should find time,” Hermann shoots back, “Because if this is how we are going to treat people now than we’re no better than They are.”

That silences the German delegate and all of the others.

“If we treat people as collateral instead of finding some basic human decency than we don’t deserve the Earth and should just turn it over to the Precursors now.”

He can feel the gazes of all the delegates narrowing down on him lasers.

“What separates us from them is our _humanity._  How we treat each other is indicative of who we are. It's what separates us from the monsters."

Nobody in the room moves, or even breathes.

"That’s why Cadet Namani and the others helped me," he says, his voice turning more subdued, "You don’t have to reward them for it but you shouldn’t punish them or it.”

He looks up at them and hopes they don't see how tight he's gripping his cane. He hopes they only see the steel in his spine.

“You can throw me in a cell and let me rot if that’s what you want but I will rest easy knowing Newton Geiszler is no longer a prisoner in his own body and getting tortured for information he doesn’t have. Because that was the _right_ thing to do.”

With that he turns on his heel to find Liwen Shao standing in the doorway, a hint of a smile at the edges her lips and her brows high on her forehead.

“I would like to go back to my cell now,” he tells the guards.

“We’re not finished Dr. Gottlieb,” calls out one of the delegates behind him.

“Well I’m finished.”

And he starts walking, correctly assuming that the guards will follow. Only when the door shuts does he finally exhale, all the steel leaving his spine in one breath. Now he just stands, tired and bent over, breathing hard and shaking from head to toe.

He desperately hopes he did not just doom them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah I'm trying to finish this fic ASAP so I can get back to working on my post Infinity War thing and uh this chapter was hard


	23. Last Questions

_my therapist says i can’t_  
_make the monsters disappear_  
_no matter how much i pay her._

_all she can do is bring them_  
_into the room, so i can get_  
_to know them_

_my therapist says make friends with your monsters, José Olivarez_

Jake stands alone at the center of a dark room filled with holograms of PPDC delegates. He has his arms folded over his chest as he stares up at them.

“Why would you throw your career away like this?” the British delegate asks

“It wasn’t much of a career to be honest,” he replies with a flippant shrug, “And because it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“The lot of you seem to have some strange ideas about right and wrong,” The British delegate says wryly.

“Maybe it’s you that has the strange ideas,” Jake snaps back, “Maybe you’re so used to having all the power that you’ve forgotten to think of the rest of us as people.”

A murmur sweeps the room and Jake exhales through his nose, closing his eyes and trying to shut them all out for a moment.

That was something he would have said to his father if Stacker was still alive. The man had been a general and a warrior for far too long. Everybody was either a pawn, an asset, or an obstacle. But Mako…

“Mako Mori would never have stood for what you did,” he says quietly, willing his voice to not crack at the sound of her name.

“Especially when you consider the fact that Dr. Geiszler only Drifted in the first place as a way to get us intelligence on the Kaiju. He did it to save lives not knowing the sort of consequences he might have faced.”

That might be a slight exaggeration based on what Hermann has told him, but he did Drift _twice_ and gain intelligence that helped Mako and Raleigh save everyone.

He can see the way one or two delegates shift in their seats and he grins up at all of them.

“So I don’t care if you fire me for this, I don’t think you’ll jail me for this, _or_ my friends,” His grin widens, “Unless you want six very pissed off people calling the largest press conference imaginable to air out _your_ dirty laundry. I hear reporters will still see famous people in prison, want to find out how many we can get?”

“Are you attempting to blackmail us Ranger Pentecost?” asks the American delegate and Jake chuckles.

“Nah, it’s just business. You should know all about that.”

And with that he turns on his heel and heads for the door. Nobody stops him.

\---

Jules Reyes has been sitting alone and staring at the walls for an interminable length of time. For awhile she sat close enough to kick the closed door, mostly for something to do, and an innate belligerence.

If she has to be having a bad day so should the guard standing at her door.

But nobody appeared in the least bit perturbed by her kicking the door and eventually she got tired.

Maybe this room is soundproof.

She’s been debating testing the theory by screaming, just to see what happens.

Her life’s motto has always been a bit of the ‘poke it with a stick and see what happens’ attitude.

Plus that distracts her from the much larger problem of what is going to happen to all of them.

Jake will be alright… That boy is like a cat, forever landing on his feet.

And Nate will follow after him as best as he can.

They’ll probably go easier on the kids.

(Or she hopes they will)

She has no idea what will happen to the two men at the center of this.

Or what will happen to her.

She let Jake’s explanation about using their notoriety as protection pass because…

Mostly because she wanted to help, but also she is not in any way famous from the events at Mt. Fuji. She was just one of twenty or so surviving J-Tech officers who worked furiously to get some jaegers up and running.

Nobody really knows or cares who she is which makes her expendable.

It makes her an easy target for a more serious punishment.

She can be the one they ‘make an example of.’

She’s been mulling all this over more than she would like for the last hour when the door to her cell opens and Marshall Shao walks in.

The Marshall who appeared on their side initially and then was very, very good at appearing otherwise.

\---

Liwen steps into the Officer Julie (AKA Jules) Reyes’ cell, glancing back to see the guard shut the door behind her. When it’s shut she leans against the wall in what she hopes is a casual and non-threatening stance.

And the woman looks up at her, exhausted and annoyed.

“Can I help you Marshall?” she asks, brows raised as she looks up at Liwen from her seat on the floor. And Liwen shakes her head, uncertain of how to go about this or even if she should.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she says, which causes Officer Reyes’ eyebrows to climb even higher on her forehead.

“How very neighborly of you,” she says.

Liwen sighs, “You’ve been held here for almost eight hours without an update so…” she looks away, lowering her voice in the hopes that the cell’s surveillance camera won’t pick up what she says, “I think you’re going to be released soon.”

That gets the woman’s full attention.

“What?” she asks.

Liwen glances back at the camera. For a moment she debates if this recording or her next words could be potentially damaging to her future as a Marshall. Then she decides, _fuck it._

“I think you might be released soon,” she says at a regular volume, “Doctor Gottlieb made a very convincing case on behalf of all of you, as did Jake Pentecost.”

She watches that register on the other woman’s face with surprise and something else.

“What about you?” Reyes shoots back, with an edge in her voice, “What case did you make?”

Liwen cannot help the way her cheeks heat up ever so slightly.

Because she had a lot of reasons to try and defend the lot of them. One of those reasons is sitting in front of her, she won’t deny that.

“I suggested it would be in their best interest to hold back on harsher punishments,” she says and Reyes looks at her for a long studied moment.

“Huh.”

Liwen almost smiles. _Huh,_ indeed.

Reyes leans back, looking Liwen over from head to toe with something like consideration. She glances at that camera and then back before saying softly,  “You’re really rooting for them aren’t you?”

And Liwen does smile at that. At the subtle choice of words and the subject of them. “Yes.”

Reyes leans back against the wall, her mouth ever so slightly agape. After a moment she shuts it and says, “If I’m not put in prison for the rest of my life would you like to go out for dinner one of these days?”

That takes her aback for a moment, a true blush climbing up the back of her neck.

“I think there might be some rules about the Marshall fraternizing with subordinates,” she says slowly and Officer Jules Reyes grins.

“I bet there’s paperwork for that. Was that a no?”

“No,” Liwen replies after a pause. The other woman smiles wider.

“Cool, we can nail down details if I'm not locked up for the rest of my days.”

“Okay,” Liwen says, and leaves without another word.

When she steps outside her phone buzzes with an update from the council.

She opens it with great trepidation.

Her eye’s scan the message and the only words she can think are:

_I can’t believe it._

\---

Newt has been drifting somewhere between awake and sleep for the last few hours. Amara is out, her head back against the wall, her mouth slightly open as she breathes deep and even.

And Newton wants to sleep, he really does.

Except for the fact that the voice haven’t stopped screaming and he’s a little bit afraid that if he falls asleep he might accidentally cede control of his body. So every time he’s close to sleep he opens his eyes wide and tries to shake it off.

He wonders how much longer the PPDC is going to need before they decide to lock him up for the rest of time.

He hopes the others are all released...Maybe with a minor slap on the wrist so the PPDC can feel big.

Maybe…

He loses that train of thought when the door to their cell opens and the guard standing in the doorway. Amara startles awake at the sound.

“You’re being released,” the guard says, flat and disinterested.

“Wait what?” Amara asks, furiously rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Cadet Namani, you are being released.”

“Are they not punishing us?” she asks.

“You will be suspended from work without pay for a month, during which you will not be allowed to leave the Shatterdome for any reason barring an emergency,” the guard says, blandly reciting the words he must have been told.

“So like house arrest basically?” she asks and the guard rolls her eyes.

“Please remove yourself from this cell Cadet Namani.”

She stands up and then stops and looks back at Newton.

“But what about Dr. Geiszler?”

“Dr. Geiszler is not your concern,” the guard says.

And Amara stares at Newton where he sits, half curled on the floor. He wants to tell her to just go. That she’s done more than enough but there’s a stone in his throat at the thought of being alone with all that screaming.

At that moment Liwen Shao appears behind the guard, looking down at her cell phone with a sigh.

“Dr Geiszler,” she says, “You and Dr. Gottlieb are going to be held here under observation until some psychiatric professionals deem you to be truly free of alien influence.”

That sounds reasonable enough. It _is_ reasonable.

He doesn’t have to freak out about that except for the part where he might have to sit in this cell alone for days and he might go crazy.

...Or more crazy than he already is.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have any comments but hello to the people who've stuck with this fic the whole time I appreciate you, sorry this is a short chapter, then next one is gonna be *real good*


	24. Reunion

_Breathe in, breathe out_  
_Let the human in_  
_Breathe in, breathe out_  
_And let it in_  
_Plants awoke and they slowly grow_  
_Beneath the skin_  
_So breathe in, breathe out_  
_Let the human in_

–Human, Of Monsters and Men

 

Amara looks back at Newton as she’s led out of the cell.

“You should let him see Dr. Gottlieb,” she calls back to the guards and to Liwen Shao who is still standing in the doorway.

The Marshall looks at her, unblinking.

“We’ll see.”

From there Amara is led down a hallway to some sort of central waiting area that all the hallways feed into. A woman behind a desk eyes her critically before looking down at some paperwork.

Was she the only one released? She looks around in a flash of panic and sees Jake and Nate coming down the hall.

 _“Jake,”_ she shouts gleefully, running at him full speed so she can throw her arms around him. He only stumbles back a little bit, keeping his feet as she hangs on a little too tight.

“Hey Smallie,” Jake chuckles in her ear and she can’t help the giggle that bubbles up in her throat before she lets go and steps back, “You’re being released too?” She looks at both of them for confirmation and they nod.

“What about…?” She trails off, looking around for Viktoriya and Jinhai and sees them coming down one of the many hallways and heading for her.

Except Jinhai stops and then Viktoriya does too.

Their eyes lock and Viktoriya is the one who runs towards her demanding, “Amara are you alright?”

“What?” Amara asks, because _what is happening?_

The moment she’s within range, Viktoriya reaches up, and frames Amara’s face with both hands. The touch is surprisingly gentle and warm and no seriously... _What is happening??_

Amara feels a bit like she might be short circuiting.

“Um,” she says eloquently and Vik looks her over, almost like she’s checking to see that Amara’s in one piece.

 _“Never_ do that again Namani, you scared the shit out of me,” she says sternly.

“I scared you,” Amara repeats faintly, the other girls hands are still resting on Amara’s cheeks which feel like they must be on fire. Like she might burst from the sensation of skin on skin.

“You volunteered to get locked up with a guy who might still have _aliens taking over his brain,”_ Viktoriya whispers vehemently.

“Newt wasn’t dangerous,” Amara says slowly, “It was fine.”

And the look Viktoriya gives her then is strange. Upset, resigned, and maybe something else. Something softer and fragile. She drops her hands from Amara’s face like it burned her and looks down, biting her lip.

“Right, sorry,” she mutters and _no,_ Amara thinks wanting to reach down and grab her hands putting them right back where they were because _no,_ she broke this somehow.

What did she break?

Vik takes a step back and Amara stares at her trying to piece it all together.

“Wait,” she says and the other girl freezes, looking the few scant inches down at Amara like they are on opposite ends of an ocean.

“Um,” Amara says, before taking a deep breath, the way one might before plunging into the sea. Then she reaches down and takes Viktoriya’s hand in a single hurried instant. She looks up at Vik, fully expecting to get shoved away. To get told no. To find she’s misread every possible sign along the way.

Viktoriya’s hand is still as stone in hers. The girl’s head is ducked down and away from her. All Amara can see is a flash of her jawline and her normally tidy hair which has somewhat fallen out of its ties.

Still, Amara plows onward past frozen vocal chords, “I’m sorry I scared you,” she whispers.

Vik still won’t look at her.

And then the hand in hers comes to life, fingers slowly moving to intertwine with her own.

Amara can feel the blush crawling up her neck and Viktoriya finally looks at her, pale skin now pink up to her ears.

“Apology accepted,” she murmurs and at that moment Amara finally remembers Jinhai whose been standing a few feet away this entire time. His grin is a smug mile wide and bright as sunlight.

Vik follows her gaze to the boy and she rolls her eyes, tilting her head to one side, “Come here,” she drawls and Jinhai runs to throw his arms around the both of them with a whoop and an exclamation of _“Finally.”_

Somewhere behind her, she can hear Jake's soft chuckle. She can't even find the energy to be embarrassed.

For a moment Amara shuts her eyes and lets this soak in.

This right here.

_This._

Is perfect.

\---

Newton stares up at Liwen Shao’s back as the woman watches Amara get led down the hallway.

And he waits, feeling the seconds tick onwards.

Finally she looks back at him, eyes half lidded.

“I can’t actually let you stay in the same cell as Dr. Gottlieb,” she says in semi non-sequitur, “But I can let you see him for a few minutes.”

“R-really?” Newton asks incredulously. The look he gets in return is deeply tired, “I’m sure someone might have a problem with it later, but yes, really.”

He stares at her for a moment, his mind racing with questions and confusions and the screams of a far away alien race trying to chp him away piece by piece.

“Do you want to see him?” Shao asks, speaking the words with care.

Newton nods with wild eyes and lungs that are suddenly devoid of air. She nods once in return before turning to the remaining guard by the door.

“Uncuff him,” she says and the guard wavers.

“But _ma’am,”_ she whispers and the look Liwen gives her could curdle milk.

“You will keep your sidearm out and ready and you will only use it on my command,” Liwen says and the guard ducks her head and moves to unchain Newt, who gawks at the marshall.

Soon he is being yanked upright and propelled out the door on unsteady legs. A glance behind him shows the guard has her gun out and aimed at the ground by his feet.

The marshall walks beside him and Newt whispers, “Thank you.”

She glances at him sidelong, “Don’t mention it,” before glancing away for a moment, and then adding, “Seriously, do not mention it.”

Newton swallows the urge to laugh hysterically at that, (true hysterics, with actual crying) as they reach the end of the hall and enter the main area.

There he’s distracted by the sight of Amara, enfolded in a warm embrace with her friends. The blonde girl, Viktoriya, leans into her in a way that looks like more than _friends_ , or so he thinks.

Amara looks up as he passes, just in time to catch the shit-eating grin he’s aimed at her. She flicks him the bird in response which is deeply funny and he will hopefully get the chance to tell her that later.

Jake, Nate, and Jules all stand on the opposite side of the room taking in the adolescent scene before them. Jake and Nate nod as he passes them to head down another hallway. Jules lifts a hand in a lazy wave.

He should talk to them when all this blows over.

Then he reaches the end of this second hallways, stopping in front of one particular cell and all other thoughts go flying from his head.

This must be Hermann’s cell.

The doors open and he freezes at the sight of _h_ _im._  In an instant Newton thinks of _Ulysses,_ of Hermann’s hand in his, both neural and a physical handshake. He thinks of the steel in this man’s spine as he faced down a room full of armed soldiers and didn’t even bat an eye. I thinks of the time they talked about the _Silmarillion_ and the look in his eyes when he told Newton he was strong enough.

Now, Hermann looks rumpled and exhausted but in one piece which is a relief.

He’s sitting, slumped on the floor and lifts his head slowly when the door opens. He stops when their eyes lock.

And Newton doesn’t really think or breathe. One second he’s standing in the doorway, the next he’s practically throwing himself at Hermann.

It’s like a shipwreck, or a bomb, or a monster crashing into buildings.

It’s catastrophic and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he’s wrapped his arms around the man and buried his face in his shoulder.

And Hermann lets out some noise, a small sound of surprise or sympathy or something else. He’s not really sure which until he feels gentle hands come to rest on his back.

There are so many things Newton wants to say at this moment and they all crowd his throat trying to get out. ‘ _Thank you,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘You’re my favorite person,’ ‘I’ll never leave again.’_

“I know, _liebling,_ I know,” Hermann murmurs, his hands moving in soothing circles on Newton’s back and this is what being human feels like.

This is what it’s like to be a person, and for a moment, even the voices in his head quiet down to make room for it.

This is what it feels like to be whole again.

The only thing he can wonder is what Hermann must be thinking right now.

\---

Hermann thinks he may never let go of this damnable man again.

Newton is a shaking, sobbing mess in his arms and Hermann just holds him close, whispering comforting nothings and soft words. He doesn’t even care that the man’s glasses dig into his shoulder.

There are too many things to say and no room to say them. This room cannot contain all the words he wants to say, _‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘I regret none of this because it brought you back.’_

Instead he just holds onto this man who might just be the love of his life.

Because that’s all he can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another short chapter but STUFF happened. FLUFFY STUFF. I had fun writing it but both of those scenes were really hard to nail.


	25. Small Talks

_my therapist says i can’t_  
_make the monsters disappear_  
_no matter how much i pay her._

_all she can do is bring them_  
_into the room, so i can get_  
_to know them, so i can learn_

_their names, so i can see_  
_clearly their toothless mouths,_  
_their empty hands, their pleading eyes._

_my therapist says make friends with your monsters, José Olivarez_

Newton actually falls asleep in Hermann’s lap. 

In the company of a guard standing two feet away, watching them with a critical eye, Newton just falls asleep. The shaking slowly eases beneath Hermann’s hands and the hitched breaths smooth out into something steady and deep.

Hermann does not sleep, making hostile eye contact with the guard and idly wondering how much time is passing. 

He can’t sleep, there is far too much on his mind, including the man who is sleeping in his lap.

Hermann thinks it’s been around 24 hours since they Drifted, and while that involves unconsciousness, it is not what Hermann would classify as rest. He wonders how long its been since Newton actually, properly slept. If this is the first sleep he has gotten in some time.

He had terrible insomnia during much of the time they worked together. Under Their influence, Hermann suspects he had very little control over when and where he rested.

He wonders if that’s going to be an issue for him going forward. One they will have to deal with if they are eventually released from PPDC custody.

Hermann suspects there will be many issues they will have to deal with.

The biggest one being, if they are released from custody, whether or not they should even continue working with the PPDC at all? Hermann is loathe to leave the familiarity of an environment he’s worked in for nearly 20 years and his expertise may prove invaluable if the Precursors do make good on their promises to come for Earth and its inhabitants.

And at the same time, the PPDC has proven to be an even less trustworthy organization that Hermann had previously assumed. All bureaucracies come with problems, that is the nature of so many people who are accustomed to seeing the big picture and little else. And yet their willingness to disregard the wellbeing of their own is disconcerting at best.

(And Newton is one of their own even when he was no longer working for them. He put ten years of blood and sweat into this organization and the PPDC forgot that far too easily for Hermann’s liking)

Of course how would their potential exit affect the new Marshall? Or those that put their futures on the line for the pair of them? All of them have put themselves in precarious positions for Hermann and Newton and Hermann will not forget that quickly.

He considers all of this as he glances up at the Marshall, who has taken a few steps back from the doorway, angling herself away from the scene. Hermann can only guess its an attempt at giving them privacy. She vanished from sight for awhile, but now she’s back and on her cell phone sending text messages or occasionally glancing up to say something to whoever is passing by.

It could be an ten minutes or an hour that’s passed when Liwen looks back at him and says, “Sorry Dr. Gottlieb, Dr. Geiszler, time’s up.”

Hermann looks at her and then down at the man who is just splayed out on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck, head buried in his shoulder and legs utterly akimbo.

“He’s asleep,” he says and of all things the guard snorts, “No shit.”

He glares at her but finds the look he gets in return to be far more thoughtful than he would have expected.

And the Marshall nods, her mouth in a thin line. 

“You’ll have to wake him,” she says and Hermann wants to be mad at her. At the pair of them. Anger flashes and passes as quickly as it comes. Surely the PPDC did not approve this brief visitation. This is merely what kindness was possible in their difficult circumstances.

He moves his hand from the small of Newton’s back to his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake.

“Wake up Newton,” he says in his ear.

At first, nothing happens. Then he feels the arms around his neck spasm and Newton gasps, ragged and rough like it’s his first breath of air after drowning. For an instant his body goes rigid. The next second he’s practically thrown himself to the other side of the cell, pressing his back to the wall and shaking head to toe.

_ “Jesus,”  _ he hears the guard mutter, both hands white knuckling her gun, which is thankfully still pointed at the floor. He glares up at her now before looking over at Newton who is still breathing like he’s run a marathon, shakily clenching and unclenching his hands in his lap.

“Newton,” Hermann says and the other man looks at him, wide eyed and shadowed. 

But there are no flickers in sight.

“S-sorry I--” he doesn’t finish that sentence, looking over at the guard standing over them with naked terror. Unbelievably, she looks between the pair of them and takes a step back. Liwen stands back in the doorway, her expression almost immobile.

“Do you know where you are Newton?” Hermann asks carefully.

“Hong Kong Sh-shatterdome,” Newton replies, his eyes back to his hands which he’s still opening and closing.

“Correct,” Hermann says, “Now the guard needs to take you back to your cell--”

That gets Newton’s full attention and the mood seems to be panic.

“--So you need to tell me what’s happening right now,” Hermann finishes and Newton just stares at him. Hermann wonders if the man is remembering from barely more than a week ago when Hermann shouted at Newton that his only real failing in this entire mess was a lack of communication.

_ “You were struggling with this for two years and you never thought to say anything?” _

_ “What the hell was I supposed to say? Hey Hermann I think I might have a weird addiction to Kaiju brain?” _

_ “Yes, Gutte gotte Newton, yes you should have said that.” _

In the present, the man’s gaze flicks over to the guard and back to Hermann.

“I told you,” he murmurs, “They would still be in my head like before.”

Another hesitation as the pair of them look at the guard who has not moved from her spot despite having clearly heard them.

“They’re not…” Newton begins and trails off, his hand still clenching and unclenching and it occurs to Hermann, this is his way of self testing. Of making sure he still has power over his body.

“But you’re in control,” Hermann says, pointing at Newton’s hands as they continue their open and close pattern, like flowers blooming and dying in seconds.

“I still  _ hear them...and it hurts,”  _ Newton says, his face screwed up with the agony of it and Hermann sits back.

“You said when they were in control you Drifted at least once a day?” Hermann asks and Newton looks down at his open closed hands and nods.

“Have you considered that,  _ that  _ is how they maintained their hold over you?” Hermann asks and Newton just stares at him, “Perhaps without their connection to you being renewed on a daily basis…” 

He trails off, raising his eyebrows and Newton blinks, glancing again at the guard and then back at Hermann. He crawls back over to where Hermann is sitting and it’s practically a scuttle.

“I’m afraid that they’ll take me over again if I sleep,” he whispers and it’s barely a whisper. Surely the guard and Liwen can hear it and Hermann exhales, long and slow and tired with his eyes closed. Not because this is stupid or irrational, he is simply exhausted by what their life is now and how many people are to blame for it.

“If something like that took place we would deal with it,” Hermann says, calm and yet utterly immovable on this fact. Both the rock and the hard place.

“But what if…?” Newton begins and Hermann shakes his head, reaching down to take the hand that rests on the ground between them.

_ “We  _ will deal with it,” he repeats as pointedly as he can. He would point out that Newton just slept and woke up as himself but anxiety is not rational and at a time like this Hermann will not invalidate his fears. 

Still, he glances up at the guard who is still waiting and then back at Newton.

“But right now you need to go with them.”

Newton’s hand tightens in his, the man’s eyes going wide and fearful again. And Hermann sighs again, reaching up to rest a hand on Newton’s cheek, “Just be patient and we will sort all of this out okay?”

Newton nods, “O-okay,” and after a pause he adds with a shaky grin, “You still need to read me that poem.”

“Well you’ve caught me there,” Hermann murmurs, his thumb stroking the insomnia bruised skin under Newton’s right eye. That’s the eye that still has red in the sclera, Hermann can only assume he has a bloody ring to match.

And something about his words or his touch seems to be enough for the other man to get unsteadily to his feet.

“Okay,” he says again, and he almost sounds sure as he nods down at Hermann and then lets himself get led out by the guard in a manner that seems much gentler than how we was led in. Perhaps there are some on this base who might find it in their hearts to forgive when they see what poor choices have made of this man. Liwen Shao pauses in the doorway to give him one final nod before the cell door swings shut behind her and Hermann is left alone again.

Alone and bereft with no idea what time it even is or how much longer he will have to stay here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter but ah well. The title is kind of a reference to Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men which I like a lot


	26. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should spell check this more I will later tralalala

_Lift your head and look out the window_  
_Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go_  
_Listen, the birds sing, listen, the bells ring_  
_All the living are dead and the dead are all living_  
_The war is over, we are beginning_

_In Our Bedroom After the War, The Stars_

 

The days pass slowly.

But they do pass.

Everything passes with time.

If Newton was asked, he would not be able to say how he endured it. With each day the screams in his head seem to lessen, but only in the smallest of increments. It takes a whole week before Newton notices they’ve gotten quieter at all.

During that week he speaks to psychologists and psychiatrists and neurologists. He’s scanned, poked, prodded, and interrogated by every manner of professional available.

None of them are particular helpful. Their concern is in determining whether Newton is still a threat.

Or more accurately, if the Precursors can make him a threat again.

He still forgets sometimes. Every time he falls asleep, he wakes up and watches as he opens and closes his own hand, wondering at the ability of it.

He still feels too much.

After years spent deprived, his senses overwhelm him. Everything is too bright, too loud, too much.

When he’s alone in his cell he tries very hard not to have panic attacks.

He nightmares in blue.

Once or twice Liwen Shao visits him.

That guard that was there when he saw Hermann sometimes talks to him through the cell door. Her name is Sharon. She’s nice in a military sort of way. Her taste in music is decent. She’s played him a song or two off her phone to pass the time.

In the end, most of that week passes with him alone in his cell trying very hard not to listen to the voices in his head.

He doesn’t listen and even if he did there is nothing he can do to make them happy. So he just waits and waits and waits.

He desperately hopes he will be allowed to see Hermann again.

\---

Time passes unbearably slow for Hermann.

A week passes, broken up only by visits from every stripe of mental health professional and a few neurologists for good measure. They ask about the Drift and take copious notes. They put him through MRIs, EEGs, PET scans, and CT scans. It’s frustrating and tiresome and Hermann wishes they would be satisfied and leave him be.

He wishes to be released and to see Newton again.

Or Amara and Jake or Nate…

Liwen Shao visits him on occasion although there is not much more for them to say. He suspects it is merely a kindness and she will inform him that Newton is doing well.  
(And he does believe her but he would much rather see that with his own two eyes)

He’s spent so long considering every possible outcome that he’s exhausted by all of them.

He sleeps a lot, for lack of anything better to do.

His dreams are full of lingering shadows and menacing blues.

But the week passes in headaches and anxieties until Liwen Shao shows up at his cell with news.

“You’re being released.”

\---

When Hermann and Newt finally see each other again there are no guards. No lingering witnesses.

They meet in the hall.

And this time they don’t crash.

There is no wreckage.

Newton stares down at his open-closed hands. It’s becoming a habit now.

He drifts towards Hermann, a hesitant step forward and two steps back.

It’s Hermann who closes the gap with a quiet, “Come here.”

And Newton falls into his orbit with a sigh, letting his head hang forward, resting on Hermann’s chest as the other man’s arms come to rest on the small of his back.

“I’m sorry Hermann,” he whispers.

“I know _liebling,_ I know,” Hermann replies, barely louder than a heartbeat.

And Newton just lets himself stand and be held, all raw nerve endings and too loud breathing. He doesn’t want to cry anymore, he just wants to try and be in this moment.

“It’s all so fucked up,” he mutters, blinking back unwanted tears.

“We’ll fix it,” Hermann says, as certain as the sea. And Newton actually believes him.

\---

A deal was struck behind closed doors.

Hermann made his case for the pair of them and their invaluable expertise.

The deal was, they would leave the PPDC, but remain in Hong Kong and remain available for consultation. Either in person or over the phone in Newton’s case. There was no way Hermann would ever make him step foot inside this Shatterdome unless he was absolutely certain he wanted to.

It would mean the pair of them would need to find jobs, but any of the major universities around would be happy to have them. Academia would be their home again.

And it felt right to stay in Hong Kong which had been their home for the last twenty years and remained a home with people who cared for them. There weren’t many people in either of their lives anymore, those that were still alive ought to be kept close.

But that was the long term. The short term was that it was time to pack.

And find an apartment.

\---

Liwen Shao sits alone in the mess hall staring idly at nothing. She’s been in and out of meetings all day.

Waiting around monitoring the two doctors for forty-five minutes made her late to one such meeting last week.

Those beneath her might see some of her choices as cruel while those above her will see them as soft. There is no winning these days, she is merely doing her best and doing what seems right.

She suspects that she won’t lose her job for it, but there will be snide comments and men demanding detailed explanations. Everything she’s done she can sell to them as precautions, should the doctors ever get it into their minds to take their story to the press. Anything they can do to make themselves look better such as granting visitation or avoiding unnecessary force in their detainment would only help their public image if this story came out.

It won’t though, if only because she is quite sure the doctors will be extremely preoccupied with other things such as finding new jobs and Newton’s recovery for some time.

She’s distracted from her thoughts when Jules Reyes plops down on the other side of the table across from her and begins without preamble, “I know I invited you to dinner but I seem to be on probation for the forseeable future and they used some strong language about the possibility of me going off base for anything other than emergencies so…” she trails off, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling and then back to Liwen and her mostly untouched tray.

“So,” Liwen repeats because she’s pretty sure what Reyes is asking but she prefers certainty to guesswork.

“So let's have dinner,” the woman says, leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand, her eyes sparkling.

“Why?” Liwen asks before she can think about it, or think of a better of choice of words. Her single syllable query hits the table between with an almost audible thud. Jules blinks, her cheeks pinking ever so slightly while Liwen turns her head in a vain attempt to hide the color in her own cheeks.

The other woman opens her mouth to respond and Liwen holds up a hand, “What I mean to say is, what possible interest could I hold for you?”

Not _actually_ a better choice of words, but at least a clearer one as she feels the heat coming off the back of her neck. At this moment she must resemble a strawberry or something of that nature.

And Jules smiles, still blushed but there’s amusement there too.

“Well first off, have you seen yourself?” she asks, “You’re kind of gorgeous.”

Liwen opens her mouth to say something, or a hundred things, she honestly isn’t sure.

She’s not a spontaneous person by nature, but being around Jules Reyes seems to draw words out of her before she can think twice about them.

Jules shakes her head before Liwen can begin to try and say all the things she is thinking in this moment.

“But it’s more than that,” she says leaning forward, looking Liwen in the eye, “You’re kind.”

Liwen starts to shake her head and Jules flaps a hand as if waving away whatever Liwen’s protestations might be.

“I don’t know you very well, it’s true. I would like to know you better,” She raises an eyebrow at Liwen with a hint of a smile, “But everything I’ve seen you do has been as kind as you could be in those situations.”

“Really,” Liwen says and it’s both statement and question. Flat and disbelieving, “I have done a lot of things for myself and my career Reyes, I’m no martyr.”

“I didn’t say you were,” she replies, “But in the span of a few weeks I’ve seen you throw your life’s work down the drain in order to help us fight the kaiju, you backed up Hermann through this whole debacle, and don’t think I missed you escorting Geiszler in to see him down in the cells last week I doubt that was sanctioned by the suits, that was just kind.”

She ticks off the examples on her fingers one by one and Liwen stares down at the table.

“I’m simply doing the best I can,” she murmurs and Jules actually throws her back and laughs.

“No shit, what do you think any of us are doing?”

And that gets Liwen’s attention. She looks up at the woman, her sparkling dark eyes and her long hair falling down around her shoulders in waves that Liwen wants to touch.

“So, will you have dinner with me?” Jules asks again, still smiling, leaning forward a little more so there’s little more than a breath of distance between them, “And we can see what happens after that?”

Slowly, Liwen nods her and Jules grins wide.

“Awesome, see you back here at seven.”

As she walks away, Liwen sees Amara Namani and Viktoriya Malikova slip into the mess hall, their hands intertwined and Jinhai Ou-Yang follows behind them with a grin as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

Liwen leans back in her seat thoughtfully.

It would seem, by some miracle, that things really have turned out alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not an ending there will be at least one more chapter, maybe two


	27. Thirteen Weeks After(Epilogue)

_My love, after everything that we have suffered and lost and carried like burdened beasts– after all that we have bled and all that we have cried and all that we have ached– after all that we have given to this world, and all that this world has taken from us - after we have given up our last weary heartbeats and we have marched our last weary steps and we have bled our last weary blood drop on the last weary battlefield– goddammit, but we deserve some soft and gentle epilogue at the end of our chapters._

[— if happy endings are too much to ask ( j.p. )](http://pencap.tumblr.com/post/173495575789/my-love-after-everything-that-we-have-suffered)

“It’s going to be like _months_ before I’ll be allowed off base for a visit,” Amara says in dramatic teenage fashion. She’s sitting on Hermann’s desk in her usual spot, swinging her feet, and watching him pack up his office.

Newton is currently boxing up the contents of Hermann’s living quarters and Hermann is quietly dreading what a mess those boxes will be to unpack. But it’s mostly clothes and little else. Newton will know to treat his books with care at least, but the rest will surely be thrown together like a hodgepodge.

Still, it gives Newton something to do and since they’ve been released, his nervous energy is unending and he seems to dislike sitting still for any length of time. And he wants to help, _gutte gotte,_ Newton wants to help with _everything._ So Hermann asked him to pack up the living quarters and Newton was all too ready to comply.

Nate volunteered to help as well, so it might not be a complete wreck, but who knows? It’s his most mundane concern and Hermann will revel in the simplicity of that.

He wants to get them off this base as soon as humanly possible.

Even if the PPDC agreed to his terms, he can’t help the fear that they might change their minds and break down the door with thirty armed guards ready to put them back in those damnable cells.

The first thing he did was find them an apartment as far inland as possible. They border on the Tai Wai district, but with enough miles between them and the sea to let Hermann sleep a little easier. He had asked Newton if he had a preference for where they might live and Newton just looked at him funny, the way he does sometimes, like he can’t quite believe something he said or possibly, his very existence.

“Away f-from the ocean,” he said when the look passed into something more tired and sober.

So away from the ocean, they would be.

Hermann has already contacted the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology and the Hong Kong Polytechnic about a teaching and research position. The initial responses have been promising.

In the present, Hermann looks at Amara.

“A few months is better than never being able to visit,” he says primly, “This really is the best outcome we could have hoped for.”

“I _know,”_ Amara says, leaning forward so her hair flops over her face, “But it still sucks.”

Hermann can’t help the way his lip twitches at that.

“It does suck,” he agrees.

The silence that follows is easy and calm. Hermann glances at her as he pulls files from a cabinet to box up.

“You know, if you ever decide to leave,” he says gently, “You’ll have a place with us. The same goes for your friends.”

She glances at him with that look he’s seen on her too many times before. The look of someone who has seen too much and knows too much. The look of someone much older, squeezed onto her young face as she shakes her head.

“Thanks Hermann but no,” she says quietly, “They’re going to come again. You know it as well as I do, even if they don’t have Newton they are going to try again and when they do, I’m going to be ready for them in my Jaeger.”

She sits up straighter with a steely look in her eyes.

“Amara Namani, hero of Earth,” Hermann says with a small smile.

“I’m serious Hermann,” she all but exclaims, “I know the PPDC isn’t a barrel of flowers, but I won’t be defenseless when they come for us again!”

She’s practically glaring at him, at once a grown woman and a child. Hermann shakes his head, “I was also being serious.”

She looks away, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“You’ll have a place here with us too, you know, if you need it,” she mutters, ducking her head.

“Thank you Amara,” Hermann says and she looks back at him again.

“Besides, I couldn’t leave now,” she says, “I’ve got Jake and Viktoriya and--”

“How _is_ Viktoriya doing these days?” Hermann interrupts her with a knowing smile.

Everyone has seen them walking around the base hand in hand, leaning into each other with glowing smiles. Their friend Jinhai seems to be the most amused out of anybody by the spectacle.

Amara’s blush deepens as she nods her head, “Good, really good...” she trails off and embarrassment turns to mischief, “How’s Newt doing?”

At this point Hermann is beyond self-consciousness on the topic of Newton. So much of their drama was public spectacle. So much of it witnessed by those who had no right to see it.

They are almost never apart from each other these days, traversing the base as an inseparable pair.

It’s as much precaution as it is care. Neither of them is quite willing to let the other leave their sight. Even sending Newton to pack was a production and it took several reassurances from Amara that she would keep an eye on Hermann while Nate promised multiple times that he would get Hermann if any sort of Newton-related emergency arose.

Who could blame them after everything that happened? Not their friends apparently.

Hermann hopes that being away from the Shatterdome will help with this too. That putting some distance between Newton and the grasping hands of the Pan-Pacific Defense Council will ease some of that uneasiness that seems permanently in his chest.

Presently, Hermann looks at Amara and says, “He is doing well.”

There is a pause as he stops placing files in a box to properly look at her.

“He also told me about you keeping him company in the cells.”

Amara looks down with a shrug

“You weren’t there to look out for him, so I figured somebody should,” she says with a shrug.

“And that was very good of you,” Hermann replies, meaning it with every fiber.

Again, the girl shrugs, “It was no big deal, and besides, he’s funny,” she flaps a hand, as if to wave away the seriousness of it.

“Well, in case Newton didn’t thank you himself I just wanted to say thank you for the both of us,” Hermann tells her firmly and she just shrugs again.

“Whatever, did you hear Jules went on a date with the Marshall?”

Hermann shakes his head, smiling and letting it drop. If this is the conversation she wants to have, he is more than happy to oblige her and so he carefully leans against his desk just to the left of her, as she launches into her tale.

\---

Newton is doing an abysmal job of packing.

Hermann is going to have a cow when he opens the boxes and sees a book on theoretical physics stuffed next to some sweaters and old socks.

Still, it’s better than sitting around and listening to the wail of voices compelling him to do things he knows he shouldn’t. Keeping busy helps.

He knows that Hermann wants to get them off base as soon as possible so when he offered Newton this chore, he leapt at it.

And Nathan Lambert offered to help which was odd, but seemed to make Hermann feel better.

(He has a feeling that Hermann wants somebody accompanying Newton at all times until the Shatterdome is far behind them. Like he’s afraid somebody might break down the door and snatch Newtom away while his back was turned. Newton isn’t going to judge this, honestly.)

So in the present moment, Newton is haphazardly hurling items into boxes and Nate quietly rearranges and folds things in his wake.

Considering he still shakes constantly, especially in his hands, his hand-eye coordination isn’t great anyway and any attempts to fold and carefully place things failed spectacularly. So, Newt won’t object to the assist.

Although they haven’t talked much during this whole venture. Mostly because Newt doesn’t know the guy very well beyond some vague memories from Their time and Nate doesn’t seem particularly chatty.

“Oh h-hang on,” is the first meaningful dialogue exchanged between them in the last thirty minutes and that's when Nate picks up one of Hermann’s books. It’s a book on physics and he’s about to put it next to Hermann’s copy of Lord of the Rings.

“You gotta keep the f-fiction and nonfiction separate dude,” he says, pointing at the book in Nate’s hand. Something about that makes the guy smile a little.

“Sure, Geiszler,” he says affably enough, setting the physics book in another box while Newt gets distracted by the other books still sitting on Hermann’s shelf.

One of them appears to be a small book of poems by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

He makes a beeline for it, ignoring the other man entirely for a moment. He somehow opens to exactly the right page on sense memory alone, or perhaps the spine is particularly worn on this section.

He steps around Nate, book in hand, not even looking up from the page as he plops down on Hermann’s bed.

He runs his finger down the page with a sense of secondhand deja vu.

_It little profits that an idle king,_

_By this still hearth, among these barren crags..._

He reads the words and he wants to cry a little bit, remembering Hermann reading this to him once so long ago, and remembering being the one reading it with exhausted affection, and remembering his fear in the holding cell when he had asked Hermann to read it to him again.

Every time Hermann came for a visit, Newton wondered if it would be his last. That fear only grew with the passage of time.

He had practically begged for this stupid poem, grasping at threads for anything that might bring comfort.

And now he is just able to read it, sitting on Hermann’s bed, fully controlling his hands and the way they grip the page, and his eyes as they scan the words.

There might actually be tears in his eyes as he reads onwards.

_That which we are, we are._

_One equal temper of heroic hearts._

_Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_

_To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._

“Are you okay?” Nate asks him and he looks up, startled.

“Oh yeah, s-sorry it’s fine um…” Newt says too quickly, mopping the wet from his face with ungentle hands, “I just um... _really_ like that poem.”

And Nate looks at him for a long and studied moment.

“Do you remember all of it?” Nate asks, his forehead creased with curiosity or something else, “From when you were under the Precursors control?”

“Mostly,” Newt answers with a shrug and no hesitation, “There were parts where it was kind of like I was a-asleep in there, or m-maybe comatose?”

Something about that makes the other man wince. Everybody had questions about the Precursors, but his answers seem to make people uncomfortable. Even Hermann gets unbearably sad when they talk about it.

“But I remember most of it,” he finishes with a nod and Nate nods too, pensively, his frown deepening.

“Do you remember when I grabbed you on that rooftop?” he asks and there’s an edge in his voice, something Newton can’t quite parse.

And he squints, thinking it over.

He remembers pieces of what followed the Precursors attacking Hermann, and the events leading up to Mount Fuji. But he had fought so hard for control in that moment with Hermann…

...Afterwards he was tired and just floated away.

He remembers his mouth smiling as Jaegers were pounded to dust.

He remembers his hands on a control pad that sent commands.

He remembers Nate appearing on the rooftop with him looking haggard and worn down, his face twisted in a tight grimace.

“Kind of?” he says aloud and again Nate nods his head, looking down and away.

“We didn’t really know yet…” he says, trailing off midway to run a hand through his blonde hair.

Newt considers the man, remembering when he properly came to, down in his cell. He was sore all over and his nose hurt like hell.

“I may have…” Nate tries again and doesn’t finish as Newt finally gets what he’s probably trying to say.

“I-it’s fine,” Newton says, and Nate shoots him an odd look before  shaking his head.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he says and Newt can’t help his pained expression.

“Please don’t.”

Again, there’s an odd look from Nate.

Then the man claps his hands together, like he’s trying to dispel the moment or the tension of it and he says, “Come on, we’re mostly done and Hermann should probably look all this over before we start sealing up boxes.”

It’s so clearly an offering for him to exit this talk as well as this room, with its books that make Newton cry

“Okay, l-let’s go,” he says, because he’s anxious and being near Hermann is closest he gets to calm these days.

Nate leads the way out of the room, with Newton following just behind. He stops to shut the door on a room full of all the little markers of nearly ten years Hermann spent alone and reminds himself that he will not let this happen again.

He will not leave Hermann alone again.

_Never again._

\---

Jake joins them on the walk to Hermann’s office and Newt resolutely bites down on not saying anything weird for that entire walk. It’s harder than he thought it would be, being normal for a solid ten minutes.

He’s grown accustomed to solitude or Hermann, who seems to take his oddities in stride these days.

When they reach his office, it’s fuller than when they left it.

Not only is Amara sitting with him, but Viktoriya and Jinhai seemed to have joined as well.

Newt eyes the two girls now sitting shoulder to shoulder on Hermann’s desk while Jinhai leans against the metal frame of it on Amara’s other side.

“Hey guys,” Amara calls out as they enter, waving at them and Jake waves back, “Hey Smallie.”

Jake and Nate go over to them and the five of them almost immediately launch into some debate about old and new models of the Jaegers.

“I’m sorry dude, but what you were saying earlier? The old models were _so_ heavy,” Amara says.

“These new ones practically jump ten feet with a single step, that weight kept you grounded,” Jake replies and Viktoriya is shaking her head, “No, no the older ones do not have the power of the new models.”

Newt watches them go back and forth for a minute or so before he goes to stand next to Hermann, who eyes him with something like gentle amusement as he keeps putting files in boxes.

“Is the room all packed?” he asks.

“No,” Newt replies and Hermann just shakes his head.

“Well, we can finish that after I finish here.”

“O-okay.”

On the other side of the room it seems that several conversations are sprouting out of the one debate. Voices rise to step over others as arms begin to gesture wildly.

“The holographic interfaces are far more elaborate now.”

“But the power cores on first generation Jaegers!”

Hermann follows his gaze, amusement growing as he takes in the scene.

“They are really quite something aren’t they?” he asks softly and Newt almost laughs.

“They really are…”

Neither of them speak for a few minutes. Hermann moves his files and Newt watches the debate on the other side of the room get briefly sidetracked when Marshall Liwen Shao and Jules Reyes step into the room.

“Hey Marshall,” Jake calls with a casual salute.

Viktoriya, Jinhai, and Nate are still arguing something about the Drift interface.

Hermann stops what he’s doing to look up at her and nod his head, “Hello Ms. Shao,” He says and she nods back.

(He doesn’t call her Marshall because they are civilians now, but of course Hermann will be as polite as humanly possible)

Jules glances over at the debate that is still raging.

“The old Pons interface was a death trap.”

“It was massively innovative!”

“Oh don’t even get me started on those Pons helmets,” Jules calls out, stepping into the fray, “They were short circuiting _constantly,_ back me up Liwen,” she says, turning towards the Marshall who hesitates, still standing just outside the orbit of this conversation.

“Well, the Pons system was deeply flawed in its first generation,” she says softly.

 _“See?”_ Jules all but shouts and Newton watches as Liwen drifts into their debate, remaining more polite and subdued than her girlfriend.

(Everybody on base says Liwen Shao and Jules Reyes are dating now and judging from the looks passing between them, Newt thinks they might be right)

Hermann and Newt just watch it all play out (And Hermann packs)

If Newt were inclined towards the maudlin (And he is a bit these days) he might remark with wonder at this little family Hermann built on his own in the wake of a disaster. At the kind and loyal people he pulled into his orbit.

It makes Newton think of the family they had before.

“We should see if Tendo can visit,” he says aloud and it's a total non-sequitur and yet Hermann obviously knows what he means. The Drift only brought them closer really, and Hermann could already read him like a book.

Now, he just looks at Newton, then the group.

“That would be nice,” he says and shuts the drawer in his desk with a decided _thunk._

“I f-found your book,” Newton tells him; a second abrupt aside, “The one with the Ulysses poem in it.”

Hermann leans his back against the now closed filing cabinet. He holds his cane out in front of him with both hands and looks over at Newton.

“Did you?”

Newton nods, “I think that might be my favorite poem ever,” he says.

Hermann’s smile is small and soft as he leans into Newton a little, just enough so their shoulders push together.

“It’s a good one,” he says and he presses a kiss to Newton’s cheek.

\---

There are many farewells as Hermann and Newt finally leave the Hong Kong Shatterdome, their things packed and sent ahead of them.

There are embraces and clasped shoulders and a few tears shed. Amara swears that as soon as her probation is lifted, she is going to visit them _constantly._

Jules jokes about how boring the base is going to be without them.

Liwen simply inclines her head, but there’s a tightness in her eyes that looks like sadness.

Nate doesn’t say much at all but he gives them both hugs that are tight enough to break bone.

Jake simply nods and says with a smile, “We’ll see you soon yeah?”

And then it’s time for them to go.

And they do.

Hermann doesn’t say that he will miss it.

That the Shatterdome has been his home for nearly 20 years.

The way Newton holds his hand says it all.

\---

There is an apartment, sparsely decorated, but comfortable. Mostly packed with bookshelves and little else.

Newton is the one who decides the walls need decoration and on a whim picks out one of those stock Van Gogh prints at a home furnishings store. It’s blue with winding branches and fragile looking white flowers. It goes on the wall next to their kitchen table and Hermann finds himself looking at it often when they eat dinner together.

They need to get better at cooking, right now they mostly eat overpriced take out.

That’s one of a hundred things they need to do.

Newton goes to a counselor once a week and a neurologist once a month. Both doctors had to request access to their files from PPDC which was thankfully granted with little fuss. Sometimes Hermann talks to the counselor as well.

It helps.

Hermann starts his new job as professor and researcher at Hong Kong Polytechnic. It’s forcing him to brush up on his Cantonese, but he manages.

Eventually there will be visits. Amara and Viktoriya will watch movies with them on their couch. Jake and Nate will come over on a night when Hermann decides to cook a proper meal.

There is time spent together and it’s good and it’s real.

One night, when enough time has passed, Newton will softly apologize to Jake for Mako. For _his_ part in it. And Jake will tell him that it’s okay, or as okay as it can be.

He also tells Newt to remember the guilt so this doesn’t happen again.

\---

There are still nights when Newton wakes up in a cold sweat. When he forgets who he is and where he is. He panics and breathes too fast and flexes his hand open and closed and open and closed. Most of the time Hermann will wake up and sleepily clasp at his hands, at his cheek.

_“It’s okay liebling, it’s okay.”_

There are nights when Hermann wakes up with a gasp, remembering when an alien wearing Newton’s face nearly killed him. Most of the time Newton will wake enough to roll over and wrap himself around Hermann and hum something soft and soothing until one or both of them fall back to sleep.

One night he hummed the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody, but that just made Hermann laugh helplessly until he cried. Neither of them went back to sleep that night.

\---

Eventually Newt joins Hermann at the Hong Kong Polytechnic although it is strictly for research. Everybody agrees Newton would be a disastrous professor.

Eventually the nightmares lessen in frequency and intensity.

Eventually the voices in Newton’s head quiet to a minor itch he will never be able to scratch and he can live with that.

Everything passes with time.

\---

One night the pair of them lie in bed together, reading by the light of one small lamp that bathes the room in the gentlest golden sheen.

Hermann is working his way through Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire with great interest.

Newton is re-reading that book of poems.

(It now sits on his bedside table for whenever he feels the need to pick it up and page through it again. He is growing to appreciate the entire contents of this single volume, but there is one that remains his particular favorite.)

He doesn’t quite understand the level of his new and intense predilection for Tennyson and at the same time it makes perfect sense to him. Hermann doesn’t seem to question it, he simply takes it in stride, his eyes going all soft every time he sees Newton reading it.

Now, Newton’s eyes scan that same poem for the millionth time.

_To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._

“You know it reminds me of you,” Newton says, another in a long line non-sequiturs at this point, “I think that’s why it’s my favorite.”

Hermann briefly glances over at the book in Newton’s hands and smiles.

“Really?” he asks and Newton nods, “Yes _really.”_

He leans into Hermann’s angling the page towards him to point at his favorite line.

 _“One equal temper of heroic hearts_.”

Hermann practically scoffs, turning his head away to hide a blush.

 _“It is though,”_ Newton insists, reaching out to poke Hermann’s arm, “It’s you.”

And Hermann shakes his head, his smile going soft as he looks back at Newton. He reaches up to press a hand to his cheek, the way he has so many times before because he loves being able to touch him and because he loves him.

“No, it’s not me, Newton,” he murmurs, “It’s _us.”_

And Newton Geiszler doesn’t know what to say to that so he simply smiles.

He never expected to survive the Precursors. He never expected to find happiness again.

Nor did Hermann Gottlieb.

So it seems fitting that after all they’ve been through, they found more than just joy.

They found each other again.

And they were content with each others company in the face of whatever the future might bring.

 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When canon doesn't do what you like you gotta fix it huh? Well I had to anyway.  
> Thanks y'all it's been a fun journey.
> 
> (Also according to Google, people in Hong Kong speak mostly Cantonese? hence the line about brushing up? I was under the impression Chinese speakers in Pacific Rim were speaking Mandarin, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong)
> 
> And if anybody is interested in what I'm writing next, I'm going to go back to working on my coping mechanism for Infinity War AKA [Sorrow Followed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14459907/chapters/33404739)


End file.
